


Legal Ease: What goes up...

by EirinnGoBragh12



Series: Beginnings, Endings, Inbetweens [5]
Category: Backstrom (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Police Brutality, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 14:16:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19947523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EirinnGoBragh12/pseuds/EirinnGoBragh12
Summary: Valentine has taken some classes towards his degree, but as a prereq for law school, he has to pass a pre-admittance state bar board review of his character. Val has to present his old police records and convince the board he will ethically and morally practice the law that he has so frequently snubbed his nose at. Pulling his medical and police records makes some of his old friends and clients nervous. Valentine is on his way to turning over a new leaf, but maybe there aren't any leaves left on his tree.Powerful people do not like their lessers to move into their orbit, and possibly expose their past. How far will they go to shut him up?





	1. Legal Ease

Val sat on the floor, surrounded by files, his back pressed against the wall, tears were sliding down his face and anger was boiling in his veins. He buried his hands in his face, and bit down on a sob. What a fucked up day. 

"Hey," Peter said, and his voice dropped as he took in the sight of Valentine. Peter pulled off his suit jacket and tossed it aside, as he sat on the floor in front of Valentine, reaching for him. Val moved his hands from his face, he hadn't heard Peter come in, but he'd been distracted. "Didn't go well today?" Peter asked wincing. Val thought back to the morning, he and Peter had both dressed up for the day, Valentine in a new smokey gray suit he’d gotten for his interview. He’d already ditched his tie, flinging it in frustration as soon as he got home. Peter had murmured he looked forward to taking it off later, Val hoped he wasn’t too disappointed. “That bad?” Peter asked, as Val bit his own lip. "What did they say?"

"Politely, that I didn't pass the character fitness test, with subtext that I'm a lying whore," Val shrugged, rolling his eyes. Val buried his face again and Peter wrapped his arms around Val. "It was going so well, I really thought," Val said sniffing, swallowing hard. "It doesn't matter what I thought," he said his hand going through his hair in frustration. 

"What is all this stuff?" Peter asked, gesturing to the variety of folders strewn about. 

"They wanted everything, my criminal records, my medical records," Val said, taking a deep breath, clearly trying to regain his composure.

"Medical records? That seems unrelated to your character," Peter said, thumbing through the files. Val barked in laughter.

"Yeah, except, if you submit to a rape investigation they aren’t just medical records, they are part of the investigation. I gave and retracted statements during some of the assaults and rape investigations. I lied and impeded police investigations, and in the ones where the officers concluded I was lying in order to extort more payment, or had received payment and only cried rape because I might get arrested for prostitution, makes me not credible," Val breathed hard, closing his eyes, "they got a statement from a police officer who used to," Val trailed off, clutching his own shirt, "anyway, he didn't mention our arrangement but he said awful things about me, I haven't even seen him in eight years, and," Val shook his head. "They dug through my past, and I was honest with them about everything, and they just, attacked me," Val said, and Peter held him tighter. 

"I'm really sorry," Peter said, "can we fight it?" 

"Yeah, I can file an appeal, open to the public and everyone can see," Val swallowed, "I can show my records to everyone and they can subpoena all of them, I can face a tribunal of attorneys, all of them asking me about these records." Val said flicking his hand. "They'll be allowed to call witnesses," Val wiped at his eyes, and pressed his lips together, his chest moving with a sob that he didn't let escape, "one of them," Val said, his eyes cutting to Peter, "said eight rape kits was excessive, and sounded unbelievable, they decided before I got there what the answer was," Val said, "and they went through everything in pain staking detail, I'm pretty sure, to humiliate me. They brought up our relationship, that blow job the newspaper wrote about -that wasn't even true- and glossed over how I got stabbed! Irrelevant. They brought up Natasha," Val flinched. He put his fists to his face, and was rocking slightly. 

"What can I do?" Peter asked. Val slit his eyes open, his head going back against the wall, shaking it slightly, traitorous tears slipping from the corners. 

"Nothing, no one can do anything," Val licked his lips, "it just sucks. They warned me when I enrolled, but I had so many letters of recommendation from my professors, fellow students, the dean," Val whispered. Peter pulled Val into his arms, rubbing his back, kissing his hair, murmuring words of apology and love. Val breathed it in, it had been awful. 

All of his free time in the last year had been consumed with studying, school, boyfriending, and he'd been really good at all of it. Val's chest ached with disappointment, betrayal, and shame. Screwed up choices born of life and circumstances, and he was reminded again, he deserved what happened to him and he was less than.

Val didn't really feel ashamed of his prostitution. Overall it hadn't been a horrific experience -oh the bad ones had been bad, but also a small portion of his career- and he'd paid his bills. Most of the clients were okay. Even that had been thrown in his face, he had liked his job okay. He didn't abhor or condemn prostitution. He didn’t think prostitutes were the scum of the earth. It’s not like he was recommending it!

"You with me?" Peter asked, a hand on Val's cheek. 

Val held his hand there pressing into it. "I love you," Val whispered,and that stirred a memory, Valentine thought back to when he couldn't say that phrase at all. Val felt the rage still boiling inside of him. He leaned in and kissed Peter hard, his hands going to Peter’s face, and Peter met his ferocity, instinctively accommodating Val's aggressiveness and need. Peter pulled Valentine down on top of him, his tongue delving deep, using his teeth, tasting all the parts of Val's mouth, trying to meet his need, but also convey affection and love.

Val was breathless in his need, removing clothing with adept and fast hands. 

"I love you," Peter said when he started to get the sense Val wasn't quite with him. "I love being with you," he breathed.

"Of course you do, this is what I'm good at," Val murmured, but there was none of the usual sexy teasing undertone, it sounded a lot like shame, self recrimination, condemnation. Peter pulled back, sitting up and pushing Val with him.

"No way," Peter said evading Val's mouth.

"What?" Val snapped in frustration, his hands going to Peter's belt. 

"I will fuck you senseless until you can't walk," Peter whispered against Val's mouth, and Val shuddered a little at the promise. "Or you can lay back and let me suck you off," Peter elaborated. "But," he said pulling away "I'm not hatefucking you." Val pulled back an eyebrow arching up in surprise.

"Hate fucking?" Val asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm not confirming some self hatred and treating you like a prostitute. ‘This is what you're good at?’" Peter asked, repeating Val’s phrase as a hand drifted to Val's cheek, Peter tilted his head, a look of hurt and confusion there. That took a little wind out of Val's sails. He looked down.

"I'm sorry, I just feel," Val shrugged, looking dejected, his hands going to his own neck, rubbing. 

"You are good at this," Peter said pushing Valentine onto his back as Peter leaned over him.

"Good?" Val asked with an affronted look, an eyebrow raising sharply in objection.

"Mind blowing, earth shatteringly every other person on the planet is jealous amazing at this," Peter corrected, and added a long, slow kiss. "Because you're a great boyfriend who cares about me, and knows what feels good, knows what we each enjoy, and you're eager and loving. You have a wide breadth of expierence that has given you access to hundreds of ways to make sex exciting, fun, and erotic," Peter explained dropping kisses, letting his hands trace Val's body. Val seemed to relax beneath him.

"You're not some whore and this is all you're good at," Peter said firmly, "and I'm not going to play out some charade like they are right about you," Peter said firmly. Val smiled, and flicked his eyes at Peter coyly.

"But you will fuck me until I can't walk?" He teased, his tongue darting out as he rested his head back on his own arms, giving him a great view of Peter hovering over him. Peter pressed down, kissing, tasting, Val's hands shot up pulling him in, his own tongue on the offensive, Peter moaned low in his throat they kissed, mouth, lips, neck, chest, everything they could reach, panting in between, drawing in shallow breaths. "Je t'aime," Val whispered, and Peter pulled him up, Val straddling his lap, towering over him, Val leaned in to tease him with kisses and tongue, his hands splayed against Peter's chest and neck. Peter let his hands drift up Val's back, wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Val rocked against him, and Peter gasped, feeling constrained against his clothing, wanting desperately to be pressed against Val. 

Peter pushed Val up, and Val put his hands on either side of the doorway, as Peter peeled off his slacks and boxers, his mouth found Val's erection, and Val hissed, and moaned, his hands clenching the doorframe to keep his balance, sweat was breaking out over his body and he looked down into Peter's eyes, he fell into their depths, Peter loved him and took no steps to hide it or be coy, he just loved him with everything. Val drifted as Peter's tongue flicked and teased.

Val grabbed Peter's arms, and he stood, Val's mouth finding his, as they stumbled towards the bed, trying to maintain their kiss and body contact, Val misjudged, they caught a corner of the bed, and landed on the floor next to it - not breaking their rhythm. Val without breaking the kiss grabbed the lube, and turned, Peter moving with him, Val put his hands on the bed, and Peter was behind him, Peter pushed inside, thrusting slow and Val arched his back, grunting with pleasure, and Peter's arms went around him, his mouth on the back of Val's neck, kissing, his hand pulling Val's face back so he could deepen the kiss, Val threw an arm behind Peter’s head and tilted his mouth, his fingers tangling in Peter's hair as he devoured his lips. "More," Val moaned, and his hands went out in front of him to brace himself, Peter thrust deep, and hard, finding one of the many rhythms that they enjoyed, a hand going around to Val's erection, engulfing him, Val's mind reeled at the dual pleasure, he came, slow and intense, his body exploding in pleasure, Peter tumbling after him. They stayed together, breathing hard, hands slowly exploring each other, mouths making lazy kisses on any available flesh. 

Val turned and pulled himself onto the bed, but Peter stayed on his knees, his arms going around Val, pressing his head against his stomach. He looked up as Val ran a hand through his hair. "Have I mentioned how lucky I am to have you?" Peter said, kissing Val's stomach, pushing him back and climbing on the bed, they lay on their sides, foreheads touching, hands stroking each other. 

"I told you, you could be," Val reminded him, licking his lips. Val opened his eyes and Peter was looking at him again, raw unchecked love in the depths of his eyes. Val felt emotional just experiencing it, knowing he was loved no matter what, it was overwhelming. Val wondered how Peter felt when Val looked at him, did Peter feel as cherished? Peter kissed him, slow, long, his tongue tentatively exploring. "Hate fucking?" Val asked, narrowing his eyes so he could watch Peter from under his lashes.

"My boyfriend has a dirty mouth, I heard him say it once," Peter started to explain.

"You're blaming me?" Val yelped, laughter in his voice.

"You've taught me many naughty and exciting things, the least of them is the words," Peter promised, his voice husky with lust. Val laughed, turning on his side, and Peter pressed against him, his arm going around Valentine, and Valentine held onto him tightly. "Je t'aime, love you," Peter whispered against his ear. Val felt sleepy and sated. Peter was settling behind him as well, and Val let the hazy afterglow of sex wash over him, and he drifted.  
****

Peter woke slowly, breathing in the scent of his lover, Val was wrapped warmly in his arms. Peter revelled in the feel of him. He sat up and watched Val sleeping, he had a cute snore that he occasionally tried to contain with little nose bras, but Peter found it endearing most of the time. Val stirred a little beneath him, his brow furrowing. Val occasionally still had nightmares, and his long walk down memory lane yesterday was sure to trigger some. Val hated them, hated when they came up, he didn't like anything to get the better of him. Val exercised a lot of control of his own life, and he didn't like being vulnerable, even now. Peter put a hand gently on Valentine’s chest, "I love you," he whispered, trying to ease the dream. Val jerked away, and pushed Peter's hand away, his eyes flying open wild, but they drifted closed again.

"Don't!" Val said, holding up his hands in front of them, to keep Peter back, or whoever it was he thought Peter was.

"Val," Peter said slowly, retreating, "it's me, okay?" Peter said, trying to give him space, but also wanting to stay close. There were times when Val was so trapped in a nightmare he'd fall out of the bed, and retreat, until he had nowhere to go. It could take a few seconds or several minutes to rouse him. It was painful and terrifying for Valentine and difficult for Peter to watch. Valentine had been good about sharing details of his past, but he often brushed over just how traumatic the things were that had happened to him. Most of his past was recounted in a matter of fact tone, and with lots of indifferent shrugging. The nightmares often revealed much more about his past, and Peter felt bad, like he was spying or prying information from Valentine, but he was also grateful to know and understand his lover better. Valentine was so easy going that sometimes his relationship reluctance stung, but when Peter was reminded just how violent and unpredictable Valentine’s life had been, he was grateful Val was capable of love at all.

"I love you okay?" Val was pleading, and Peter knew he was still in a nightmare, Val only sounded that frightened when he was asleep. 

"It's Peter," Peter tried again, sometimes saying ‘it's me’ was too confusing. Peter tried to reach a hand towards him and Val acquiesced to his touch, Peter hated these moments, when Val would capitulate in his sleep, offer Peter all manner of sexual favor if he wouldn't hurt him. Val was trembling, and Peter just held his hand, stroking with his thumb. Val and he stayed that way for several minutes, tremors moving through Val’s body with occasional thrashing, and then he jerked a sudden intake of breath. 

"Peter," Val whispered groggily, but his voice sounded more awake, more clear.

"Yeah I’m here," Peter said, and he moved in then, wrapping his arms around Valentine, and Valentine held him back tightly. "Bad dream?" He asked, stroking his back and hair. Val just nodded against his skin. "I'm sorry." 

***

Val held the paper in his hand and turned it over. He’d been surprised to receive a call from Senator Andrews. He was an old client, one of the nicer and easier ones. Valentine hadn’t heard from him in at least ten years, and it was startling to hear from him now. There was no reason for the summons to the Senator’s home, but Val got the impression that it wasn’t a sex call. The Senator had asked kindly if they could discuss some things. Val felt a little apprehension at the sudden reappearance and request, but he felt compelled to comply. Val vaguely wondered but hadn’t been brave enough to ask if this had something to do with his request to attend law school. He should have told Peter about the Senator’s call, but that would have led to more questions than answers. 

As Val waited outside the door, he did suddenly feel like he should have told someone where he was going. Val looked down the long driveway, no one would hear him scream out here. Val jumped when Senator Andrews opened the door himself. 

“Hi,” Val said in a shaky voice. “I mean,” Val said rolling his eyes, “hi.”

“Come in,” The Senator invited with a brief smile, perhaps a little nostalgic as he took in Val’s appearance. The Senator stepped aside and let Valentine walk in front of him. The house was stately as one would expect, hardwood, impeccable decorating, high ceilings. “My office is just ahead,” he said softly. Val remembered him more clearly then, the Senator hadn’t always been a Senator when Valentine knew him. Andrews had been a lawyer and up and coming politician then. Soft spoken, and kind. The Senator had very basic and vanilla tastes. Val thought back, he would also ask after Valentine, order him food so Val could eat first, never demanding or rushed. Afterwards, Andrews would let him stay over in the room and sleep while Andrews worked. 

Val sat down in the comfortable desk chair across from the Senator. Senator Andrews looked stiff, wary, and tired. Ten years had changed a lot, he was still fit, but stronger, more wary looking though, worry lines etched into his face. Val imagined having a political career was taxing on most mortals. The Senator hadn't lost his good looks though and they seemed to have just shifted with age, not diminished. "Thank you for inviting me," Val said, holding his bag in his lap.

"Are we pretending I have a choice?" The Senator asked. Val was taken aback. 

"Yeah," Val said, "I thought you wanted to see me. You called me," Val said sounding confused, he hadn’t even thought of Andrews until he’d gotten the call. The Senator laughed. 

"If I hadn’t invited you, what would have happened?" The Senator asked

"Nothing," Val said, "I don’t understand."

“Blackmail?” the Senator offered.

“I’m not blackmailing you, I’ve never said anything like that to anyone,” Val said, feeling panicky, “you contacted me,” Val reminded him again. What the hell? 

"So you admit you could?" Val just gave him a sardonic look. 

“I don’t know why you called me here,” Val said, shaking his head. The Senator nodded.

“You pulled all your records, and have been meeting with lawyers. A little bird told me you want to get revenge and extort your alleged former clients.”

“I, no, I was not,” Val stumbled closing his eyes. “I want to go to law school, and I want to defend people who don’t have a voice. I’m not after you or any of my former clients. I had to provide my records to the board for a character test. Can I show you?” Val asked, starting to open his bag. “Let me explain," Val offered, a little relieved that this was a misunderstanding.

"This should be good, but you could just tell me what number you’re after, maybe there’s no need for this song and dance,” the Senator said in a stiff tone. Valentine pulled out some of his medical records and the police report.

"I'm not after former clients, but not all clients were like you,” Val explained softly, handing over the files. The Senator opened them and recoiled. 

"What is this?"

"This is what happens to some of us when tricks go sideways, or when someone won't let us not accept their overtures," Val said. "I'm not interested in hurting people who played by the rules, people who were kind, like you," Val added. 

"Jesus Christ, someone burned you?" The Senator asked, pushing the pictures around, “a lot.” He looked at some of the pictures and made faces of disgust, "this was more than one incident?" Val let him take in the photos and the information. "This is terrible, but I don't know what you want from me." 

"Nothing, your name hasn’t come up with anyone. I don’t know who told you it had. I am happy to see you again, and get a chance to explain, because this is happening and people need help. I'm just trying to keep stuff like that from happening. I'm not after anyone's career, and I have no interest in embarrassing anyone. You and I had an arrangement and it was fine," Val explained. "I consented, you consented, we both got what we needed, there's nothing to deal with. But the guys who did that," Val said, pointing at the photos. "It's people like that I want to stop, people who would hurt people like me, and then try to silence us. I'm not going to tell anyone about us."

"If I what?" The Senator asked.

"No caveats, you were kind, I appreciate that. I'm not after you," Val explained slowly. The Senator considered him for a few minutes, 

"Jesus, this is sick, what happened to the people who did these things?"

"Nothing, I gave you the police reports too, the overwhelming opinion is that I got what I deserved."

"You're kidding," the Senator said, thumbing through the photographs. “What did you do to deserve this?”

Val looked away for a minute, popular question, one he’d asked several times. He pressed his lips together, closed his eyes to ease the stinging sensation. “I’m not sure,” Val said with raised eyebrows and a tight smile. “You’d have to ask the officers or the people who did it,” Val finished his arms crossing over his chest. 

The Senator nodded, standing he went to the window, his back to Valentine. "Do you know why I asked you here instead of the office?" 

"Because no one could hear me scream," Val said lightly, hoping it sounded like a joke. The Senator turned to eye him sharply, noted Val’s half smile, and shook his own head.

"I was afraid of what you would say, or have evidence of. If it was really bad, I was going to kill myself," The Senator said, his head lowering. He turned to face Valentine. "This is unexpected, and this brief flirtation with death has caused me to reconsider some things. I love my wife and my family. But I was going to kill myself because I paid you to," and the Senator trailed off. "How old were you when we?"

"I honestly don't remember," Valentine said. 

"I don't have a thing for kids, you said you were 19," he said, seeming to will Val to remember. 

"Then I probably was," Val shrugged, but the truth was he'd been 19 for at least six years, it was a good age on the street and it's not like tricks were carding him, or he was keeping a ledger.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," he said, gesturing to the photographs. "I, did I ever hurt you?" The Senator seemed uncertain, and winced, “I mean I know I didn’t do stuff like that, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt you, or was too rough?” Senator Andrews asked, looking pained even before Val could answer.

Val shook his head, "you were kind." 

“You’re sure I don’t owe you anything?” The Senator asked, he almost seemed to want to compensate Val somehow. 

“I’m sure,” Val said nodding. He stood then, “I assume we are done, and I’m free to go?” Val asked, feeling a little nervous at the turn of conversation. 

“You were a nice kid too,” the Senator said, “you don’t work anymore?” and there was a hint of longing in that tone.

“I have a boyfriend and I have different career aspirations these days,” Val acknowledged. The Senator shook his proffered hand. 

“Good luck.” 

Val left feeling disturbed by the conversation, but also gratified by it. At least it wasn’t paranoia about his inability to go to law school, apparently people were talking. 

***  
It had been a month since he was rejected from law school because of his character fitness test, and two weeks since he’d seen the senator. Valentine was contemplating what to do with his life, as he didn’t want to accept defeat and he didn’t want to go begging for another chance either. He connected with some old friends, and considered his old line of thieving, but it would complicate things with Peter. Valentine hadn’t even believed another career was possible or interesting until this last year, and while there were certainly other choices, he’d allowed himself to get excited about this one, about making a difference. He wasn’t quite ready to let it go. 

Valentine made his way back to the apartment, Backstrom had been a font of advice as usual. Backstorm thought all of Valentine’s problems would be solved if he ditched Peter and moved back to the barge. Val smiled at the memory. It was nice to have a brother who cared about him, or really any family at all that cared. Val sometimes regretted finding out too late that Backstrom was his brother, how nice it would have been to have a place to go or someone to talk to growing up. Val let the thought slid by though, he was a prick and Backstrom was cantankerous, if they had met before they did, they would have both probably hated each other. Besides, Backstrom had taken him in when he had no reason too, he obviously cared for Valentine out of more than obligation. Val let himself into Peter’s apartment.

“In here,” Peter called, as Valentine came through the door. Valentine found him in the kitchen, stirring something that smelled Italian and delicious. 

“Umm,” Val murmured his arms going around Peter, and lacing at his chest, as he went on his toes to kiss the back of Peter’s neck. Peter leaned into the touch, and used his free hand to cover Val’s. “Miss me?” Val asked.

“Of course,” Peter agreed, “try this,” he said.

“I thought you’d never ask,” and Val’s hands dipped to Peter’s waistband.

“Uh,” Peter gasped as Val’s knuckles brushed the front of his pants, “I meant the sauce.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” Val murmured, dropping down and snaking his way around Peter’s body until he was on his knees in front of him, relieving Peter of the burden of wearing pants. His hands and mouth went to work, and Peter dropped the spoon back in the pot and his hands went to either side of the stove to steady himself, as Val worked his expert tongue, licking, tasting, sucking. 

“Fuck, Val,” Peter gasped.

“Good idea,” Valentine murmured, as Peter’s body began flushing, pleasure spreading through him, Peter closed his eyes, Val’s hands were pulling him in closer, “uh,” Peter moaned as he came, leaning on his arms as his legs felt momentarily jelly like, he jerked and spasmed under Val’s touch. He let his eyes drift open and Val was watching him, smiling, whipping a towel off the counter to clean Peter off. “How do I deserve you?” Peter asked, his hand going to Val’s jaw and leaning to kiss him. 

“Maybe you’re just lucky,” Val offered as Peter’s tongue slid past his lips, and teased Val’s tongue. Val stood, his arms going behind Peter, as Peter pulled him closer. “Je t’aime,” Val whispered against his lips. 

“Oh, wait,” Peter said, returning to the dinner, he stirred the sauce again and got the spoon, “seriously, try this,” Peter said offering the sauce. Val licked the spoon slowly, holding Peter’s hands.

“It is good,” Val said arching an eyebrow, “one of the many sauces I enjoyed today,” he said breathily. 

“Where were you that got you so worked up?” Peter asked, finalizing the dinner. 

“What makes you think it wasn’t coming in here that got me worked up?” Val whispered in response. 

“Okay,” Peter acquiesced, “are you hungry?”

“So hungry,” Val murmured. Peter laughed. 

“For food,” he amended with exasperation. 

“Yes, fine, feed me while you catch your breath,” Val said, helping Peter pull down plates, and silverware. 

As they sat at the table, Val’s phone rang, he looked at the number not recognizing it. “Hello,” he answered. Peter poured wine, and dropped a kiss on his neck, returning to his seat and watching Valentine.

“Is this Gregory Valentine, is that your real name?” came a voice that if Val was not wrong, belonged to a semi-intoxicated individual.

“Who is this?” Val asked his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Sorry, Jax, actually Jaxon Montgomery, I was given your name by a mutual friend,” Jax explained.

“What friend?” Val asked, his heart constricting, perhaps this was phase two, his phone number on bathroom walls. Val had a sinking feeling about what friends might have given out his phone number, and what Mr. Montgomery might be expecting. 

“I probably shouldn’t say, but I’m an attorney here in town. Would you be free to meet later this week?”

“I don’t meet people anymore?” Val said, watching as Peter’s eyebrows shot up.

“I’m not trying to engage you for sex. As I said, I’m a lawyer. Look, our friend said, listen it’s just better if you come in, and I can explain, okay?” Jax said, and Val heard perhaps the faint hint of a slur. 

“I,” Val said, biting his cheek. So many mysterious calls lately. 

“Listen, I know about the law school issue. Come see me,” and he provided the address which Valentine wrote down. “Tomorrow, sometime after noon.”

“When you’re hungover?” Val asked.

“Have to sober up to be hungover,” Jax returned, “noon, not before. Bring all your files, everything you showed the board, let’s piss some people off,” Jax suggested before hanging up. Val looked at his phone for a long moment. 

“What was that?” Peter asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied Valentine’s face. 

“An attorney who wants to talk about my difficulty getting into law school,” Val said suspiciously. “He sounds like my kind of people, drunk and looking for a fight,” Val smirked, taking a bite of food.

“Want me to go with you?” Peter offered.

“No, I can handle this. The food is good,” Val said, shoveling a few bites into his mouth. Then he let his gaze flick to Peter, he lowered his lids, “perhaps not what I’m in the mood for, is there dessert?” Val asked. 

“I don’t know why I cook,” Peter shrugged, standing and coming to Val’s side of the table. 

****

Jax was true to his word, he was not hungover. Valentine sat across from him, his office was small and somewhat disheveled. It wasn’t in the best part of town after dark, but it was a fine during the day. 

“Okay, so, here’s the thing,” Jax said, holding a glass of whiskey. Val thought to himself, he certainly attracted a certain type, as he considered Backstrom by comparison. “There’s a program you can do,” he explained. “It’s a lawyer mentor program, you don’t go to law school, but you study here with me. If you finish your studies and work here at least twenty hours per week, you would be eligible to sit for the bar in 3 years. You would have to study on your own time and keep up, the pace is brutal. It would only be valid for Oregon practice, but you could become a lawyer and without all the fun filled law school debt.”

Val tried to follow what Jax was explaining as he studied the man. Jax wore a suit and shirt, but it could have used a press. He was clean and his hair was trimmed well. He was fit looking for someone who seemed to spend his days and nights in a bottle. Jax was also, if Val’s gaydar was on point, definitely gay. 

“And what do you get out of it?” Val asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“An apprentice, and someone to do some work around here,” Jax explained.

“I don’t know what our mutual friend might have said about me,” Val hedged, watching Jax warily.

“Former prostitute, drug dealer, thief, fence, drug addict, objects d’art dealer, police consultant, with a handful of arrests and desire to practice the law,” Jax summarized.

“So what would it cost me?” Val asked. 

“You have an annual tuition fee you pay to the bar, and I give you just above minimum wage and work you to death,” Jax explained. Val smiled, still not quite trusting the deal. “Here,” Jax said handing him a packet. “You have to complete this and then we both sign it and submit it to the bar. They’re going to try to disqualify you for character and fitness, but I’ll offer to work with you on that specifically as a mentor.” 

“Why? Why would you do any of this?””

“A favor for a friend,” Jax explained, “and,” he added softly, “I like what you want to do.”

“What do you think I want to do?” Val asked, turning the envelope over in his hands.

“I get it, you don’t trust me. I’m not after sex, sexual favors or any other nefarious ideas you might have floating around in there,” Jax said, pointing in the general direction of Val’s head, and taking another drink of his whiskey.

Val studied him for several long moments, he seemed sincere. “It still seems like you don’t get much out of this deal,” Val noted.

Jax shrugged rolling his eyes, “I get three things, one, I’m pissed at the board and I have been looking for a way to get back at them,” he laughed a little watching Valentine, “and forcing them to admit you would be hilarious. Honestly, you’re a fucking train wreck, I couldn’t have invented you,” Jax said, smiling to himself.

“Thanks,” Valentine said a little miffed.

“Also,” Jax said with an eye roll, “I get some help around which I can’t afford, except that I will be screwing you over on your salary, and giving you all the worst jobs like filing, answering phones, cleaning, typing, scheduling, courthouse runs. Everything I hate, you get to do. In exchange for the mentoring,” Jax smirked. “And lastly, I owe this friend a favor that I can’t repay, so you’re it.” 

“Who is this mutual friend?” Val asked.

“He wouldn’t like it if I said, and besides, this is a good deal for both of us. Most of my work is probono so I can’t afford help, so having an underpaid assistant will help me catch up. Read the packet, if it interests you, let’s talk again,” Jax offered, gathering files. “I’m due in court at 1:30, so you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here,” he said, grabbing a case file, and ushering Valentine out.

“Thanks,” Val said, shaking his hand. 

****

Valentine held the acceptance letter in his hands. He’d submitted the application with Jax’s help and hadn’t thought that he would qualify, and they did object to his character and fitness profile. Jax argued passionately about reform. It was obvious the Board didn’t want to approve him, and they listed several conditions for his admittance to the program, and his continuance in the program. One of them was he was required to avoid any future criminal activity. Valentine was admitted on a slim probation standard, but none of the things they demanded were outside of his abilities. 

It still didn’t feel real, he had a shot at becoming a lawyer, and in the meantime, Jax was down to take cases that Val thought were important, which would all be part of his studies. Val tucked the acceptance letter into his bag, he couldn’t wait to tell Peter. He was just leaving Jax’s office with two books on criminal law he had to study, as well as several assignments to look up. Then he’d be back first thing in the morning to start work. He wanted to text Peter, but he also wanted to tell him in person. Val felt a splatter of rain, and checked his watch. It was getting late and he hustled to his bus stop, it was seven o’clock and Jax had spent the last several hours outlining the program and Valentine’s responsibilities. It was difficult to take in over his excitement. Finally, things were going his way. 

Val slowed his step as he heard the distinct sound of a police siren and he saw the red and blue lights. Val started to step aside, and glanced to see what they might be doing. Two officers were coming towards him. “Hey,” Val said holding up his hands. 

“Stay right there, turn around, hands against the wall,” he barked. Val was stunned and he didn’t comply right away, he hadn’t done anything. He couldn’t get tangled up with the police right now, not right after he’d gotten this stupid letter. The officer grabbed his arm and pushed him towards the wall. Val dropped his bag and complied.

“Have I done something?” Val asked, a little panic entering his voice. He hadn’t done anything, not even jaywalked! He’d never been more law abiding. The officer started to pat him down. 

“What’s this?” he asked, holding up a white baggy.

“That’s not mine,” Val said his eyes going wide, he hadn’t been carrying that. What the fuck was this? “Please wait,” Valentine said, as handcuffs went around his wrists. “Please,” Val said, confusion and anger making him shake. Valentine was put into the back of the car. Tears stung his eyes, what the hell was going on, he hadn’t had drugs in years. Val’s eyes flicked up and he saw the other officer more clearly, Bennett, ‘oh shit’ Val thought, closing his eyes and letting his head roll back. A brief memory of Bennett breaking his arm in the restroom played in his mind. ‘Shit,’ he thought again. 

Val watched as the scenery changed, he glanced around. “Where are we going, the police station is the other way,” Val said confused. 

“I’m sure you know where all the police stations are,” the other officer commented, Val saw his name tag ‘Hunter’.

“What is going on?” Val asked. 

“Shut up,” Bennett said looking out the window. Val settled back in the seat, he’d get a lawyer, probably Jax, that would be a fun phone call, and then Peter would come. It would be embarrassing, but Peter could vouch for him. Val took several breaths, and tried to maintain his calm. He was doing okay, until they passed the city limits sign and the road changed from suburban to wood.

“Where are we going?” Val asked more concerned. He heard his phone ring, and Bennett held it up, Peter’s name flashed across the caller ID.

“Looks like your boyfriend misses you. I hope he’s not making you dinner, it’s going to be a long wait,” Bennett smirked. Val sat back and fear was starting to skitter up his spine. Bennett took the battery out of his phone and set it aside. They pulled off the road, and into a wooded area. Val’s heart sank, no one would hear him scream here either. He sunk his fear deep down, and was ready to get away. He tested the cuffs, but they were very tight, in fact his hands felt a little numb. 

Bennett pulled him out of the car, and Val backed into a nearby tree. “What do you want?” Val asked, it sounded more brave then he felt.

“Did you search him?” Bennett asked, flicking his gaze to Hunter. 

“Yeah,” Hunter nodded.

“Check his bag, I’ll recheck him, he’s crafty this one,” Bennett nodded in Val’s direction. Val flinched, as Bennett turned him around.

“What do you want?” Val said with less bravado, and Bennett’s hands started to pat him down, but this was no stop and frisk, it was a molest and humiliate. Bennett let his hand linger roughly, touching Val, sliding under his shirt. “Please,” Val said.

“There he is,” Bennett whispered, pressing his body against Val, “remember when you used to whisper that to me before you became such a fucking bitch,” Bennett reminded him softly, his hands slid down the front of Val’s jeans, lingering and cupping him. Val felt sick. 

“What do you really want?” Val asked through gritted teeth, “you can trade this downtown all night with no issues.”

“Why are you pulling your police files and medical records and meeting with attorneys?” Bennett whispered against his ear, pressing his body firmly against Valentine. Val swallowed hard, and shook his head.

“Is that what you’re worried about, nothing to do with you, I didn’t tell anybody anything,” Val snapped, but Bennett pressed him harder, he could feel Bennett’s erection against him. “I kept my mouth shut,” Val reiterated. 

“Did you? So why the files?” Bennett asked sharply, his hands continued rubbing against Valentine, and Val breathed in, closing his eyes, trying to maneuver away, but he was firmly between Bennett and the tree, and with cuffed hands there wasn’t much of a way to defend himself. 

“I’m going to school,” Val said evenly, trying to fight the revulsion he felt, as Bennett pawed at him. Val wanted to let his mind drift, but he needed to focus on getting Bennett to let him go. Bennett laughed loudly at his school comment.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Bennett asked and Val tensed as an emphatic ‘yes’ almost slipped past his teeth, but he bit his tongue and shook his head instead. “You fucking whore,” Bennett said, clearly having guessed what Val’s response was going to be. “Do you think you’re funny?” Bennett withdrew his hands, but relief was temporary as Bennett punched him in the back, Val grunted, but didn’t cry out. Bennett grabbed him by the hair, turning him to face Bennett, pressing him against the tree again.

“I don’t want trouble with you or anyone else,” Val hissed.

“You bet you don’t,” Bennett confirmed. “You’ve become a pretty uppity whore, and maybe you think it would be a good idea to start blackmailing your old friends,” Bennett suggested. Valentine felt stung suddenly, less brave and more devastated. This didn’t happen to other people.

“Why are you doing this?” Val asked, his voice breaking a little, but it was too much, it was okay to treat him this way, and it wouldn’t stop, why?

“Because you like it,” Bennett returned, his hand going under Val’s shirt, and undoing buttons on his pants, his nails scrapping Val’s stomach, Val tried to flinch away.

“Please stop,” Val asked flatly, his head going back, he knew it wouldn’t matter. Nothing he said mattered. He closed his eyes, and tried to shut down the tears that were threatening, he didn’t want to give this asshole the satisfaction. 

“I’m somebody,” Val said, his eyes flashing angry, “I’m a person, what gives you the right?” Val asked, genuinely wanting an answer, but knowing one wasn’t coming. He didn’t even know how to explain why this wasn’t okay, he didn’t deserve this, he wasn’t less than. 

“Oh look at you, boohoo, you’re a person,” Bennett mocked, as he pressed harder against Valentine, attempting to kiss him, but Val turned his face, and Bennett bit him on the neck instead, Val tensed but refused to cry out. “You like that better?” Bennett asked, his hand inside Val’s boxers and Val didn’t try to hide his disgust. “You used to love this,” Bennett reminded him stroking but getting no reaction.

“I never liked this,” Val said through clenched teeth, “you blackmailed me, and I did what I had to to survive,” Val said firmly, swallowing a lump in his throat. 

“What are you doing?” Hunter asked, holding Valentine’s bag, watching Bennett nervously.

“What we said,” Bennett responded, as he tried to force Val to turn around, Val planted his feet firmly, pressing back against the tree and resisting.

“You said we were going to scare him,” Hunter said with uncertainty.

“He looks scared,” Bennett threw over his shoulder, as a tear slid down Val’s face. 

“Hang on, wait a minute,” Hunter said, moving closer. 

“Just explain to him,” Val sniffed, swallowing a lump in his throat, “how handcuffing someone,and raping them is okay? He looks new,” Val offered, his voice tight and strained, as another tear escaped.

“Rape?” Bennett laughed, “nice try, we used to do this all the time, and don’t worry I have money for ya,” Bennett promised.

“But I’m saying no,” Val said, “no!” he spat more firmly. Bennett rolled his eyes.

“You used to pay him for sex?” Hunter asked, looking more uncomfortable, “you said he was blackmailing cops.”

“Shut up, he is,” Bennett snapped, “stop talking,” he said shooting a warning look at Valentine.

“I didn’t know you had a relationship with him,” Hunter accused, “I didn’t sign up for this.” 

“Well you’re in it now,” Bennett returned, “fucking rookies. Listen, it’s us or them,” he said nodding at Valentine. 

“Can we just talk for a minute,” Hunter said tightly, looking between Valentine and Bennett. Bennett sighed, and let go of Val, and walked over to the car with Bennett. Val slumped against the tree swallowing hard, wishing his hands were free so he could fix his clothes. They were whispering so Val couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their voices rose occasionally.

“Not going to help you rape him,” Hunter snapped, looking at Val and lowering his voice.

“Not rape,” Bennett continued to argue. Val wondered if he could run, it seemed a little stupid, as he was pretty far out in the woods and wouldn’t have his cell phone, or use of his hands, but if Hunter didn’t win the argument, there may not be an intent for Val to leave the woods at all. Val started to side step, watching them both as they started to get quite animated about what to do with him. Val started to inch away, but Bennett was back, grabbing him. 

“Don’t try it,” he warned and Hunter was right behind him. 

“Let’s just take him back,” Hunter was saying.

“You know he’s fucking members of the SCU, if he goes to them crying about what happened,” Bennett let the threat dangle. 

“I won’t,” Val said. Val pulled away as Bennett’s grip increased painfully, but Bennett kneed him in the stomach, and punched him when he dropped to his knees. Val yelped painfully, and then stupid overrode common sense. Val kicked Bennett in the knee hoping to break his leg, and drop him, but it wasn’t enough pressure and Bennett twisted only getting some of the impact. 

“You motherfucker,” Bennett snapped reaching down, but Val rolled onto his back and kicked out with both legs hitting Bennett in the midsection. Val struggled back but Bennett was on top of him, and swinging hard, Val could taste blood and his vision started to blur, as punches landed. It was stupid, but Val head-butted Bennett in the face. Bennett roared in pain and blood burst forth from his nose, “I’ll kill you,” Bennett roared and Val felt two prongs on his stomach and then a jolt of electricity. ‘So that was tasering,’ he thought as he lost control of his body and lay on the ground. Bennett hit him with the stungun again, and Val cried out, but couldn’t make his body move, the third time Val thought he might faint the pain was so intense.

“Stop!” Hunter was shouting, and pulling on Bennett. Val didn’t move again, he could hear them talking but everything was hazy.

“He attacked me!” Bennett was yelling. 

“We kidnapped him and you assaulted him, of course he fought back,” Hunter was stammering, “I didn’t agree to this. I want to take him back!”

“You planted drugs on him, you think this is going to go away because you have a weak stomach? You’re in this with me!” Bennett was yelling back.

There was a long silence and Valentine felt himself drift in and out, he tried to open his eyes. Val felt a hand on his throat and Bennett was close to his face, Val tried to turn his face away. “If you even think about telling your boyfriends, just remember who backs them up when they are in dangerous situations. You don’t want patrol to stop responding to their back up requests,” he threatened, “do you understand me?” Bennett demanded. Val’s eyes rolled, and Bennett shook him. “If you tell anyone Backstorm is dead and so is Niedermayer.” Bennett paused, and he slapped Valentine across the face, “Don’t you fucking ignore me,” Bennett said, grabbing Val and pulling him up by his shirt front.

“Stop, stop, he’s not ignoring you, you’ve knocked him senseless,’ Hunter was saying, trying to separate them, “let’s just finish,” Hunter was pleading, and he was kneeling next to Valentine.

“You’ll get your boyfriends killed if you tell, do you understand!” Bennett said forcefully flinging Valentine back to the ground, causing Val’s head to smack on the dirt. “Keep your fucking mouth shut or Backstrom and Nidermayer are dead.” 

“We need to let him go,” Hunter was saying, moving between Valentine and Bennett.

“Just stick to the damn plan,” Bennett was snapping, and he pulled the bag of drugs out of his pocket. Bennett knelt next to Valentine and tried to get Val to swallow the white stuff. Val snapped his teeth together and closed his mouth, they were both straining, Val with the effort to keep his mouth shut and Bennett to pry it open. 

“Help me,” Bennett snapped. Hunter looked uncomfortable, but he grabbed Val’s chin, and Bennett gripped his jaw and squeezed painfully, digging his fingers into Val’s cheek and chin, grinding the powdery substance in his mouth, he smashed it against Val’s teeth and gums, and Val tried to spit, he could taste more blood, and Bennett kept grinding. He was breathing it in as well, choking on the cloudy substance, and Bennett and Hunter ducked away, evading the powder. Val felt dizzy and sick. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Hunter was saying grabbing Bennett. Bennett kicked Val in the stomach, as he stood up, and then grabbed Valentine’s ankle, dragging him across the ground.

“Stop hurting him,” Hunter snapped, pushing Bennett back.

“You’re going to take his side, let me be perfectly clear, this side,” Bennett said pointing at his own feet, “is the only way you keep your job. He’s worthless whore,” Bennett snapped. Bennett grabbed a cloth and started to shove it in Valentine’s mouth, and when Val turned away, Bennett pulled back his fist, but Hunter grabbed him.

“Stop!” Hunter demanded.

“You do it then,” Bennett offered throwing the rag at him. Hunter took it and knelt next to Valentine as Bennett watched. 

“Look,” Hunter whispered as Val panted, still sputtering residue of his fastly numbing gums. “Just let me.”

“Fuck off,” Val spat, and Hunter grabbed his head, and Bennett dropped onto Val’s lower half holding him down. Val bucked anyway and Hunter put his knee across Val’s throat and held his nose until Val opened his mouth, Hunter shoved the cloth in and cinched it hard behind Val’s head. Val screamed his frustration, but Hunter quickly retreated. Bennett let him go and Val tried to inch back on the ground away from them, he continued to try to work his hands free. 

“Here,” Bennett said handing a hood to Hunter.

“We don’t,” Hunter was saying, but Bennett snatched the hood back and dropped onto Val’s chest. Val made a choking sound, and twisted as much as he could to evade Bennett. Bennett pulled his fist back again, and Hunter grabbed Bennett’s arm, and the hood. “I’ll do it, just stop fucking hitting him.” Bennett stood back up and gestured to Val. Val kicked again, wrapping one leg behind Bennett’s foot, causing him to fall backward. Hunter came forward immediately between them, and Bennett roared back to his feet, hurling himself at Valentine, but Hunter was between them. 

“Move,” Bennett demanded, as Hunter landed on top of Valentine, and Bennett on top of Hunter. Hunter began shoving at Bennett and blocking his swings which were directed at Valentine. 

“You fucker,” Bennett was roaring, and Hunter was trying to push him off. Val grunted as the weight of both of them was crushing, and Hunter’s elbow was in Val’s stomach as he tried to force Bennett back. Val vaguely registered one of Bennett’s fists glancing off his temple, Hunter having deflected the full impact. 

“Stop, stop, stop!” Hunter was shouting, he grabbed one of Bennett’s wrists and twisted, causing Bennett to fall to the side. “I’m trying to help you, stop being an asshole,” Hunter snapped at Val, as he worked to restrain Bennett. 

“Worthless, stupid,” Bennett was letting fly every insult he’d ever heard in his life, directing it at Valentine and perhaps at Hunter. The two men struggled for several minutes, until Bennett finally relaxed.

“Get the goddamn hood on him, and get him in the fucking car,” Bennett bit out tersly, standing and dusting himself off. Hunter stood warily, and then he pursued Valentine the few feet Val had managed to crawl, his vision was blurring and he felt dizzy. Whatever they had given him was starting to eat away at his consciousness. 

“Come here,” Hunter said and he restrained Val quickly, slipping the hood over Valentine’s head even as he tried to resist. Hunter pulled him up using the handcuffs, and Valentine sucked in hot, stale air trapped inside the hood. Val’s heart was racing now, being restrained and blinded, so many awful memories assaulted him, but he wouldn’t give up, he’d fight back, as Hunter maneuvered him to the car. Valentine threw himself backwards, but Hunter was more prepared and stepped aside tripping Valentine who fell to the ground, his head smacking against the earth. Hunter leaned down and whispered to him again. “I’m trying not to hurt you, please just cooperate. I won’t let him hurt you if you stop fucking around,” Hunter promised. Val didn’t agree so much as he was just out of options. Hunter lifted him to his feet again and put him in the back of the car. 

Val felt dizzy and he could feel tears on his face, a sob was creeping up his chest and he tried to silence it. He didn’t believe Hunter, and he was pretty sure Bennett intended to kill him. Val kept testing the cuffs, he had to get out, he tried to maneuver his thumb through, he didn’t want to die here. It was getting harder to think, and panic was spreading through his body, he had to get away. Val felt like he couldn’t breath, the air was thick and stale under the hood. Val began thrashing in the backseat, he had to find a way out, he was so disorientated without access to his senses and with whatever drug was working through his system. Val kept working, but darkness drifted over him, and his eyes rolled back as he slipped from consciousness.

***

“I don’t know where he is, I’m just worried,” Peter said, pacing with his phone, checking the screen again. Moto and Backstrom were sitting in the apartment.

“Does he have a curfew? You can’t keep a leash on Valentine,” Backstrom teased, seemingly enjoying Peter’s distress.

“He doesn’t have a leash, but he always comes home or calls,” Peter said, pacing in the other direction, he checked his watch again, it was past eleven, Val wouldn’t stay out this late and not tell him. He dialed the phone again but it went right to voicemail. “He’s probably just working late with his boss.”

“I wonder what is distracting them from answering the phone,” Backstrom offered in a suggestive tone, raising his eyebrows, and needling Peter, “a lawyer is a pretty good catch.” 

Peter shot him a look, “Val is not having an affair,” Peter said with certainty, checking the phone again.

“He is an adult, he stayed out all hours of the day and night when he lived with me, it’s not a big deal,” Backstrom groused, “but he usually stayed out because he was getting laid, old habits,” Backstrom offered.

“He doesn’t do that here, he always calls or texts,” Peter repeated.

“You can’t make him call you all the time,” Backstrom needled, “give him some breathing room.”

“I don’t, we both just call each other. It’s a courtesy. He was meeting with his lawyer today, and he should have been home hours ago,” Peter said again. 

Moto’s phone rang, and he answered. “Yeah,” he said. There was a long pause and then, “Okay, thanks.”

“What?” Backstrom asked.

“My buddies on patrol said Valentine got picked up,” Moto said, standing awkwardly.

“For what?” Backstorm and Peter said in unison. “Didn’t say, but he was arrested.”

“Is he at the station?” Peter asked. Peter’s phone rang and he answered impulsively hoping it was Valentine, “Hello,” he said, reading the caller ID, “Dr. Livingston this isn’t a good time,” Peter said, grabbing his keys and wallet, Backstrom and Moto on his heels.

“Peter, wait please, it’s about Valentine,” Dr. Livingston said, his tone panicky.

“What about him?” Peter asked, feeling ice in his veins.

“I don’t,” Dr. Livingston said, clearing his throat, “some officers brought him in and,” Dr. Livingston said.

“What?” Peter asked, his tone getting hostile.

“I can’t prove it, I just think, it seems like they’re hurting him on purpose, can you come?” Dr. Livingston finished. 

“I’ll be right there, don’t let them do anything,” Peter demanded. Peter relayed the call to Backstrom and Moto as Moto drove them to the hospital. 

****

“I think we can manage with our restraints,” Dr. Livingston was saying.

“You cannot interfere with someone in police custody, stabilize him, and we will decide how to restain him,” came an angry sounding voice. Peter ran the last few steps towards the room, as he heard thrashing and a muffled screaming sound. 

There were two officers standing next to the bed, and Dr. Livingston was attempting to get closer to Valentine, and arguing with them. Peter, Backstrom and Moto made it further into the room.

“He’s in our custody,” the officer with a nametag of Bennett snapped, but Moto backed him away. 

“What the fuck?” Backstrom snapped, as he took in Valentine. Valentine was cuffed by both wrists to the side rails, his legs were also restrained, and there was a hood over his head. He was twisting painfully on the bed, thrashing, and the source of the muffled screaming. 

“He’s high and combative,” Bennett snapped, as Moto continued to stand between him and the team. Bennett gestured to the dried blood on his own face, “he assaulted us!” The other cop, Hunter, was backing away and looked nervous. 

“Give me the keys,” Peter demanded, and Hunter handed them over, even as Bennett objected. 

“Why the hell is he restrained like this?” Backstrom demanded.

“He attacked us,” Bennett said, again pointing to the blood and marks on his face. “We caught him soliciting over at Mt. Tabor and he’d obviously taken a lot of drugs, he ran, resisted arrest and then assaulted us,” Bennett explained. 

Peter pulled off the hood, and Valentine blinked, his eyes wild, and unfocused. He was blinking rapidly, and flinching, if he recognized any of them, it didn’t show. He continued to strain, and pull away. Peter saw, blood at his mouth, and there was a gag in place.

“That’s not protocol,” Moto observed, looking at Bennett with a raised eyebrow.

“He was biting at us, and we improvised,” Bennett returned. 

Val was screaming against the gag and his wrists were getting bloody and shredded at his attempts to get free from the cuffs. 

“Valentine, do you recognize me?” Peter asked, as Val’s eyes shot distrustfully towards him, he shrank away, his movements not at all diminished. His eyes were still watering and blinking against the light. “Can you dim the lights in here?” Peter asked and Dr. Livingston turned off the overheads and activated auxiliary lights that were less intense. It didn’t seem to calm Val down at all, but at least it wasn’t as bright and he could see better, Peter hoped. 

“Val, no one’s going to hurt you,” Peter tried, but Val rattled against the cuffs. “I’m going to help you, let’s get this stuff off.” Valentine winced when Peter tried to remove the gag, it was so tight. Val watched Peter and then the other people in the room warily. 

“Get them out of here,” Backstrom said gesturing to the two officers, and Moto complied, escorting them from the room. Bennett started to protest, but Moto shoved him. 

Peter noted that Val’s mouth had dried blood, and bruising. “Are you okay?” Peter asked, but Val flinched away, his eyes darting around, at the ceiling, at the other room occupants. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know, they wouldn't let me examine him,” Dr. Livingston said, “I know they took blood,” he said pointing at Valentine’s exposed arm, “I asked them not to because he was thrashing.” Peter noted several puncture holes which looked like multiple attempts to get a needling into an unwilling arm.

Dr. Livingston put a hand to Valentine’s throat to check for a pulse, but Val thrashed.

“No, no no no!” Valentine said, “why are they doing this?” he said, but he didn’t seem to be talking to them. “I can hear them, I know,” Valentine was nodding, and still twisting. 

“Who are you talking to?” Dr. Livingston asked. 

“Mustn’t listen to them, they’ll get inside your head and take your thoughts,” Val babbled. Dr. Livingston used his pen light to try to look in Valentine’s eyes. “You can’t have my eyes,” Valentine shouted, twisting away, “they’ll take it, they want it, don’t let them,” Valentine murmured. “We have to kill them all,” he continued to himself. 

Peter, Livingston, and Backstrom shared concerned looks. 

“Valentine, do you know where you are?” Livingston asked.

“Here I am, they don’t know, it’s happening,” Val was banging his head against the bed slowly and rhythmically, his eyes closed. Peter started to undo the cuffs, but Livingston put his hand in the way. 

“Let me give him something first,” Dr. Livingston suggested, “he needs to be sedated for his sake, and ours.” 

“Hurry,” Peter nodded as Val continued to damage his own flesh fighting against the restraints. It was difficult to watch and Peter’s chest hurt watching him. 

Dr. Livingston came forward with a needle.

“No, no, no!” Valentine said and he was straining, kicking.

“I can’t do it, you have to hold him,” Livingston sighed. 

Moto came forward, and Peter put up a hand. “Just, gently okay,” Peter asked, and Moto and he attempted to restrain Valentine, but Val was strong and hopped up, they couldn’t still him. 

“Sir?” Moto panted. 

“Hold him, Moto,” Backstrom said. Moto switched, using his old fighting techniques and pinned Valentine who yelped out in pain.

“Sorry,” Moto grunted in Peter’s general direction, Peter covered his mouth and closed his eyes as Livingston plunged the needle into Val’s arm. Val screamed, and whether it was in pain or frustration, the raw nature of it set everyone’s nerves on edge. Moto let him go, and there were angry red marks where he had restrained Valentine. Val continued to thrash, and babble incoherently. Several minutes passed and eventually his struggles lessened, his eyes closed and he started to drift. 

Peter undid the handcuffs, and restraints, letting out a sigh of relief. Val turned onto his side whispering incoherently, his eyes still closed. 

“Valentine,” Peter whispered, and Val shot up. He shoved Peter hard, who went towards the wall, and kicked Backstrom in the chest when he tried to intercede. Backstrom went staggering back, Moto catching him. Val leapt off the bed, and then was backed into a corner. Backstrom grunted painfully, and Peter steadied himself turning to face Valentine, but Moto dove for Valentine, as Val’s eyes went wild.

“They can’t have it, they want it,” Valentine was murmuring, he was straining against Moto, and Moto dropped him to the hard ground, Val grunted. “Kill them, kill them,” he murmured. Peter went towards him to try to intercede, but Moto wouldn’t release his grip, and seemed to be straining to hold the younger man.

“Val, we just want to help,” Peter said, and Livingston was preparing another syringe. 

“Don’t listen, don’t listen to them, they talk without words,” Val murmured, pressing his head into the floor, twisting as he tried to get loose from Moto. Backstrom and Peter exchanged a look. 

“I’m sorry man,” Moto said, and he wrenched Val’s arm as Livingston approached again. He was moving too much and Livingston shot Peter a look. Peter tensed, but he dropped to the ground pinning Val’s arm with his knee and hands. Livingston plunged the needle into Val’s arm again, pushing the plunger down.

“No! No! No!,” Val shouted, and then he just screamed, as Moto continued to hold him. Several long minutes passed, and Val flailed fiercely, pushing against them, his movements started to become less and Val’s head would drop but then he’d snap back up like someone fighting sleep. Val rocked, shouted, screamed and fought back, shifting his weight. He was clearly beyond reason, and it felt like the sedative took hours, but it may have only been minutes. Val eventually slumped on the floor, he was still twitching slightly. 

Moto shot Peter a wary look, not quite trusting it would take this time. “It’s okay,” Peter said with no basis for that opinion, “let’s get him in the bed.” 

Moto and Peter each took a side, and lifted him, and put him back in the bed. Valentine continued to thrash lightly, but nothing like before. His eyes were moving rapidly behind his lids, and sweat was breaking out over his body.

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Backstrom said as he rubbed his chest where Valentine had kicked him. Peter and Moto worked to catch their breath. 

“I think, and the blood work can confirm, that he’s taken psychoactive bath salts,” Livingston said thoughtfully, “it would explain the paranoia, delusions, aggression, and combativeness.” Livingston used his pen light, opening Valentine’s mouth again, “it looks like it was ground into his mouth,” he said stepping aside so Peter could see. There was blood and residual on his gums and his teeth. 

“Someone forced him?” Moto asked, “to take drugs, why?”

“Valentine doesn’t do any drugs anymore,” Peter said firmly, “and he wouldn’t, so someone forced him.”

“You said he had the review to clear his character test, did that go well?” Backstrom asked, his hand on his chin, thinking.

“No results yet,” Peter said.

“That you know of, maybe it didn’t go well,” Backstorm mused. 

“He wouldn’t,” Peter said firmly. Peter examined Val’s mouth, noted the bruising around his lips and jaw, “and if he was going to, you think he paid someone to force feed it to him,” he observed pointing at the marks. “Someone drugged him.”

“What was he doing at Mt. Tabor?” Moto asked.

“I have no idea,” Peter said. “Maybe he was meeting with a potential client.”

“You think he was hustling?” Backstom asked.

“No, a legal client,” Peter snapped.

“They said they picked him up for solicitation,” Moto said gesturing with his thumb. 

“One side effect is increased libido, maybe someone dosed him and dropped him off there,” Dr. Livingston suggested. 

“Where’s his phone?” Peter asked, looking around. 

“I’ll go ask the officers if they have it, Valentine really fucked up Bennett, he showed me the marks on his chest, and face - Valentine almost broke his leg,” Moto said. 

“He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t drugged. Valentine is trying to pass his character assessment, he is trying very hard to stay out of trouble,” Peter said, shaking his head. ‘What the hell had happened?’ 

Val jerked on the bed and started to get up, Moto and Peter flew to the bed and held him down as Livingston prepared another needle. “We need to put the restraints on him,” Dr. Livingston said.

“Please don’t,” Peter said softly.

“He might hurt himself,” Livingston empathised, “it’s for his safety, I wouldn’t suggest it if,” Dr. Livingston shrugged. 

“He’ll be so scared,” Peter said, a hand stroking Valentine’s brow, “after everything, he doesn’t deserve that.”

“He could get hurt without them,” Livingston reiterated. 

Peter nodded sadly. “Can they be a little loose?” Peter asked, his hand going to Valentine’s. 

“I’ll do my best,” Livingston said. Livingston used a padded chest strap to restain him, and padded wrist and ankle restraints. After he was secured, he ran an IV line so he could provide any necessary fluids. Peter comforted himself with the concept that at least It was better than handcuffs. Dr. Livingston went to assessing injuries, and cleaning wounds. Peter stroked Valentine’s hand as Backstrom settled into a chair. Moto left promising to return if the Lieutenant needed him. 

Backstrom dug through Valentine’s bag, pulling out law books, and a piece of paper. He read it, and then showed it to Peter, “Well he didn’t start using again because he didn’t get in,” Backstrom mused noting the acceptance letter. “What do you think happened?” Backstrom asked.

“What always happens, for some reason people attack him,” Peter said, and his voice was pained as he put Valentine’s hand to his lips, lightly touching the bindings that covered his wrist. “It’s so difficult, it comes out of nowhere, and I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt him,” Peter said softly. “I can’t seem to protect him either.” Val twitched and turned his head.

“He does seem to have a target on his back,” Backstrom mused.

Both men watched Valentine for a long time, and then fell asleep in their chairs, waiting for some news, or for Valentine to come back to himself. 

***

Valentine’s eyes fluttered open. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew he was restrained, he hurt, and there was a drug like cloud trying to press him back down into sleep. He kept breathing evenly, he didn’t want his captors to know he was awake. He tried to remember what happened. His head hurt, as he tried to remember. 

He’d been walking, and the police lights. Time seemed to twist for a moment and the memories crashed into Val’s awareness, and his chest hurt. Val looked out of his peripherally, okay he was in the hospital. The last thing he remembered was being in the back of the police car. Val saw Peter, he was in a chair his head resting on the bed, and one of his hands holding Valentine’s. Val smiled painfully. 

So he must have done something if he was retrained, Val tilted his head, and followed the sound of Backstrom’s snoring. He smiled again, his brother was here too. Val tried to move and the restraints kept him from moving and a small sob escaped, he hated being tied up. Images from his past danced at the edge of his awareness, and his breathing quickly became rapid, as he tried to breath in, tears slid down his cheeks as dozens of phantom voices and disembodied hands suddenly felt like they were on his skin. Val felt flayed, whatever he was coming down off of was leaving him raw feeling, and terrified. Val tested the restraints.

“Please,” he whispered, trying to get loose. His mind slid in and out reality. It was hard to wake up, and remember where he was, to keep himself from falling into nightmares. But he was drowning, being pulled back into half sleep where bad things waited. 

“You’re so pretty…” came a ghostly voice from the past…

Val tensed and started struggling against the restraints, “help me,” he tried to say, but his throat was raw and dry, barely a sound came out. Val tensed, straining his body, ‘not tied up, please,’ Val thought. Someone stood up, but it was dark.

“Relax, I’ll take them off,” a voice said from the shadows, “but you have to stop fighting.”

“I won’t fight,” Val promised, his voice hoarse, “I’ll do what you want,” Val offered, “I’ll make you feel good, just take them off,” Val pleaded. The hands helping him stilled suddenly.

“Do you know where you are?” came the voice again. Val thought about it, where was he?

“The woods,” Val said, “I won’t tell, just let me go.” 

“I don’t think he’s dangerous, just confused,” another voice said as a shadow fell across Valentine. 

“Both of you, all of you, make you feel so good,” Val slurred seductively, his head lilting to the side. Val tried to open his eyes, he had to get away, he had to get these guys off and then get away, “not tied up again,” Val murmured, “be good, won’t run,” he promised his head moving slowly from side to side. 

“Valentine, we’re not going to hurt you, can you see where you are?” the voice came again, as the restraints came off his ankles, writs and chest.

“Woods, good whore, do it,’ Val said, his hands reaching out, chasing the shadows, his hands finding flesh, but hands grabbed his, pushing them back. “Give me a chance,” Val said seductively, trying to reach his captor. 

“No, Valentine, you’re at the hospital,” came the voice again. Val tried to open his eyes, and he did for a moment, he saw Peter and smiled. 

“Hi,” Peter said, meeting his eyes. Val smiled briefly, noting Peter looked okay.

“Don’t tell or Peter and Backstorm get hurt, didn’t tell,” Val murmured as his eyes floated back, his lids closing. “Patrol won’t come, don't tell, understand,” Val slurred, nodding his head slightly as he drifted again. 

“Valentine, who said that?” Peter asked, his hand gently on Val’s chest. “Val, everything’s okay,” Peter reassured, as Val’s hand found waistband and tried to get beneath the belt. “Stop,” Peter said, as Val’s hands continued to try to find purchase. Backstorm shot Peter a dirty look. “I’m not encouraging it,” Peter defended throwing Backstorm his own dirty look. 

“Stop hurting, just let me,” Val purred, lifting himself a little, his hands finding Backstrom, who tried to back away as Val caught his shirt, but Val balled his hands into the shirt, determined to please one of his captors. If he satisfied them maybe he wouldn’t get hurt, maybe he could go. “Just let me,” Val murmured. Peter reached across to free Backstrom, but Val’s hands shot up and pulled Peter down, Peter lost his balance as he’d over extended his reach helping Backstrom. He landed on Val’s chest, and Val twisted so Peter was wedged against the bed and half under him. “See,” Val said, and his eyes were half lidded. He tried to kiss, but it was really just his mouth landing on flesh, 

“He’s ridiculously strong right now,” Peter grunted, trying to extract himself.

“You are gross,” Backstrom observed.

“I am not making out with him,” Peter snapped, “help me.”

“No way, I’m not getting wrapped up in this, he’s my half brother, ew,” Backstrom said.

“Backstrom,” Peter snapped, grabbing Val’s wrist and attempting to deflect them from his groin area. 

Val stilled, his head lulling, “shut the fuck up or Backstorm’s dead, shh,” Val said, “I won’t tell,” Val promised, his head slumping onto Peter’s chest, his hand still making a half hearted attempt at seduction, until his breathing evened out. Peter met Backstorm’s gaze over Valentine’s now sleeping form. 

“Do you think that was drugs, or do you think it was memory?” Peter asked softly, as fear gripped his heart. Valentine wouldn't tell them anything if he thought Backstrom or Peter would get hurt. His hand absentmindedly stroked Val’s back and hair. 

“Could you stop molesting him, he’s unconscious and drugged,” Backstrom rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe he has sex with you, you’re,” Backstrom started.

“Could you focus,” Peter admonished him. 

Backstrom seemed to study Valentine, taking in injuries, studying his sleeping form. It was clear Backstorm was processing information, and Peter desperately wanted him to pull a Backstrom and make all this make sense. \

“That other cop,” Backstrom said, pacing a little. “He was scared. Because Valentine assaulted him? No,” Backstrom said, shaking his head. “Valentine was completely restrained. The one cop was mad, if someone attacked me, my team would be mad too. Why was Hunter scared?” Backstrom mused. “Because they didn’t find him at Mt. Tabor, they took him,” Backstrom snapped his fingers. “But why?” 

“Val used to trade some of the cops favors to not get arrested,” Peter suggested not wanting to quite say outloud Valentine had traded sex, was it even a trade? Or was it taken from him and it was just considered a trade retroactively? Peter felt sick to his stomach, and he closed his eyes to ride out the nausea. 

Backstrom dialed Moto on his phone, still studying Valentine. Peter moved, so Valentine was on his back, and he adjusted the IV, making sure Valentine hadn’t pulled it out. He stayed next to him, but readjusted his blankets and clothing.

“Seperate them, have Gravely question one and Almond the other one,” Backstorm was saying into this phone. “Pick them up before they have time to come up with a better story. Have Paquet pull residue off their tires, they took him to the woods,” Backstrom held one of Valentine’s wrists, “he has sap on his arms and shirt. Some forest debris, they took him out of the city, I want to know where and I want to know why. Make sure you tell them both that the other one confessed, I’ll be there soon.” 

“A patrol officer broke his arm,” Peter said, and Backstrom’s head whipped around. 

“What, who?” 

“I think Bennett,” Peter said, remembering Bennett corning Val in the bullpen. “Val told me he’d rejected someone and then let it slip that it was a fellow officer, but he wouldn't tell me who.”

“And so maybe if Bennett thought Valentine wouldn’t tell, maybe he thought he had a license for more,” Backstrom mused out loud. “Was he?” Backstrom said gesturing.

Peter shook his head, “Livingston said no signs of sexual activity consensual or otherwise,” Peter closed his eyes painfully. “Small favors, he doesn’t need more of that on top of everything else.” 

“Not all sexual assaults are easy to see,” Backstrom said, an idea that brought no comfort to anyone. “Look at his stomach,” Backstrom said. “When Livingston was examining him, I saw scratches,” Peter moved the sheet exposing Val’s stomach. Just above his waist line there were scratch marks. “Maybe they didn’t get exactly what they were after, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t get something,” Backstrom said through clenched teeth.

Peter’s heart ached. Valentine was the most difficult person to protect. There did seem to be some strange undeclared hunting season that allowed people to hurt Valentine. To track him down and take him and hurt him. Peter held Val’s hand to his lips. He wanted to take him away from all of this, get out of this city where Valentine had too many enemies. 

“What’s that mark?” Backstorm asked, his hand tracing to Valentine’s side. Peter leaned over, two red burn marks.

“A taser?” Peter asked, leaning in close, “they tased him?”

“Assholes,” Backstrom said looking over his shoulder as if they’d suddenly appear. “I’ll be at the office making those responsible pay, you keep him safe,” Backstrom said, Peter nodded. Backstrom kissed Valentine’s forehead and then disappeared. 

***

Peter lay next to Valentine for a long time, examining Valentine’s injuries, cataloging. A part of him wanted to go to the station and help the team nail the people responsible, but nothing was going to pry him from Valentine’s side. Valentine shifted in and out of wakefulness, the sedatives seeming to keep him down, which was probably better as the drug worked its way out of his system. He’d mumbled a few more harrowing things, but if it was memories, current or simply delusions Peter couldn’t tell. 

Peter watched as Valentine’s eyes fluttered open. “Hey,” Peter said, his hand going to Val’s cheek.

“Hi,” Val choked out, his throat painfully dry. Peter grabbed a cup with water and held the straw to Val’s mouth. Val took a few sips and sighed contentedly. Val closed his eyes again, but Peter felt like he was maybe doing it to avoid conversation.

“Do you know where you are?” Peter asked. 

“My home away from home,” Val teased lightly, wincing slightly. Peter leaned over him the back of his hand brushing the side of Val’s face. 

“Something like that, do you remember what happened?” Peter asked, holding his breath. 

“No,” Val offered, his eyes still closed. Peter licked his lips. Valentine was absolutely lying. 

“That’s okay,” Peter said, “Bennett and Hunter are in custody.”

“No!” Val said shooting up, and then dropping back down grabbing his head. “No,” Valentine said shaking his head, “they didn’t do anything.” Peter noted that Valentine was definitely lying.

“It’s okay,” Peter said, “try not to worry, Backstrom has this.”

“No, Peter, listen to me,” Valentine said, his eyes opening and staring at him, “leave them alone. Everything is fine, just,” Valentine tried to explain, “I’ll tell you what happened and you can let them go, just give me a minute,” Valentine said.

“So you have time to make something up?” Peter asked, his fingers drifting to Val’s hand. Val opened his eyes a pained look in them.

“You don’t understand,” Val said softly.

“They threatened you, told you if you said anything they’d hurt me and Backstrom?” Peter half asked, half guessed. Val bit his lip and looked away. 

“It’s, please trust me, we need to let them go and,” 

“Like hell,” Peter cut him off. “I don’t care what they told you, or threatened you with, I’m not letting them get away with this.” 

“And if you get killed or Backstrom,” Val snapped, anger in his eyes. Peter shrugged. “Then consider this, if you and Backstrom are dead, there's no reason for them not to kill me, no one will miss me then.” Peter flinched at that.

“We have to figure out something else, there’s no way your brother or I are letting them get away with this,” Peter said firmly. 

“You have to,” Val snapped, “it’s not a big deal.” Peter jerked up then, standing, he paced away and then back. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, it’s not a big deal? In what fucking way is this not a ‘big deal’?” Peter snapped.

“Just trust me it’s not,” Val said.

“I don’t trust you, they almost killed you, they tortured you from the looks of it!” Peter’s voice was rising steadily, he was so mad how could Val say this wasn’t a big deal?

“Listen to me,” Valentine started.

“Then stop lying to me!” Peter returned, panic and anger getting the better of him. Valentine flinched at his raised voice. Peter lowered his head and rubbed his forehead, he took several long breaths trying to steady himself. He looked up at Valentine, noted his withdrawn demeanor, his eyes were fixed firmly on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Peter felt remorse then. “I’m sorry,” Peter whispered. He walked closer, and Valentine didn’t move at all. “Val,” he tried again, sitting on the bed, “I’m really sorry. You’ve been through enough and you don’t need me to yell at you,” Peter offered. Val nodded, but nothing changed in his posture. “Damnit,” Peter muttered, “Val,” he said, trying to catch his eye. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Val said, turning to look at Peter.

“I know, and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Peter offered. “It doesn’t matter anyway, Backstrom has them figured out, and he’s going to break them both. There’s no reason not to tell me at this point,” Peter shrugged. Val nodded, turning his head away and wiping at a tear that was forming in the corner of his eye.

“Is my statement off the record?” Val sniffed, “just between us, you’re not going to tell anyone?” Val asked, turning this time to look at Peter. 

“Yeah, boyfriend stuff, not cop stuff, got it,” Peter said, his hand drifting to hold Valentine’s.

Val shrugged, pressing his lips together. “It’s probably exactly what you think. They grabbed me, they dosed me, and they threatened me,” Val said, his fingers twisting on his skin. 

“Why did they threaten you?” Peter asked.

“Because they’re assholes,” Val offered.

“Obviously,” Peter confirmed, “but what didn’t they want you tell us? What were they trying to keep secret.” Val tensed, and closed his eyes, Peter could see divulging information was costing Valentine a lot emotionally.

“If,” Valentine said softly biting his lower lip, “if I tell you, and something happens to you, it’s my fault,” Val pleaded, “would you give up a secret that could hurt me?” he begged for understanding.

“No,” Peter agreed, “but Backstrom is going to find out.” 

“Bennett thought I was pulling old medical records and police reports to go after him, he just wanted to make sure I wasn’t,” Val glossed over the meeting, watching Peter, fear and hope mingled in the depths of his eyes. 

“Is that all?” Peter asked. 

“What else is there?” Valentine asked. 

“He hit you,” Peter said more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Val shrugged. 

“Did he do anything else?” Peter asked, watching Valentine, but Val turned his head away.

“Nothing that matters,” Val said shrugging. Peter let his hand drift to Val’s stomach.

“And the marks?” he asked. Val looked at him, sniffing, and liquid did slid down his face at that point.

“What? Do you really want all the details?” Val asked, his arms crossed of his chest, holding his own shoulders, his fingers white with the strain of gripping.

“Yeah, I want to know what they did,” Peter confirmed.

“Why?” Val asked, his voice tearful, “how will you be better off knowing? How am I better off reliving it? You want to know that he put his hand,” Val trailed off his head dipping down sharply, “or that he grabbed,” Val let the sentence fall off again, wincing, his hands back at his neck, rubbing painfully. Peter leaned in, hugging him, letting Val’s head slid into the crook between his neck and shoulder, his arms going around Val’s back, pulling him close. Val was stiff in his arms, but eventually melted under his touch, moulding himself against Peter. “It doesn’t matter,” Val said softly. Peter held him tighter. 

“It does matter, but you don’t have to tell me,” Peter said, trying to soothe him. “And the other guy, Hunter, was he involved?”

“A little, he helped with the arrest, and the drugs, but he did try to stop, when Bennett,” Val shook his head. “He was okay.”

“It wasn’t an arrest,” Peter snapped, “and some asshole that kidnapped you and drugged you isn’t ‘okay’!” Peter vented. Val tensed again, withdrawing.

“Well, Bennett was going to kill me, and Hunter stopped him, so I’m glad he was there,” Valentine retorted, as Val drew himself back against the bed, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his arms and head on them. 

Peter continued to sit on the edge of the bed, he wanted to smack himself. He wasn’t mad at Valentine and yet he kept yelling at him, maybe he should go interrogate Bennett and Hunter. Peter put his hands on the mattress, clenching and unclenching. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Val?” he asked.

“Hmm,” Val said, his eyes averted, his whole demeanor completely shut down.

“I’m really sorry, I’m so mad, and I’m not mad at you, but I’m taking it out on you,” Peter confessed. “It’s not okay, and you don’t need me to tell you how to feel. I’m sorry.” Peter turned his head to look at Val, who was watching him over his arms. “I hate them, but you get your own opinion, I wasn’t there. If Hunter helped, then I’m glad, but I still hate him,” Peter said softly. Val nodded. 

“When do you think I can leave?” Val asked, rocking slightly. Peter felt his chest tighten, Val didn’t ask when he could go home, and that stung for some reason. 

“Where do you want to go?” Peter asked, looking down, brushing his hands together, trying to appear cool about the answer.

“Home,” Val said with exasperation. Peter nodded and smiled.

“I don’t deserve you,” Peter whispered. Val’s hand drifted to Peter’s back and his mouth found Peter’s neck. He nibbled slightly and he could feel Valentine smiling against his skin. 

“Then you’re lucky to have me,” he smirked in his usual playful way, “and I’m lucky to have you,” Val whispered, and Peter wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear. 

***

“Why don’t you have their damn badges!” Peter snapped, pacing furiously in Chief Cervantes office. She had her arms crossed and she was eyeing Peter coldly.

“Your team started investigating officers when the victim is your younger brother, and you’re fucking him,” Cervantes bit back, looking between Backstrom and Peter. “You both compromised this investigation, you have given me no ability to take their badges without appearing to support this unfair bias. However, I might take both of your badges!”

“That’s bullshit,” Backstrom snapped.

“Is it? Why the hell did you pull them in without clearing it with me?” Chief spun on her heel, staring Backstrom down.

“It seemed like a special crime, we’re the special crimes unit,” Backstrom offered with an indifferent shrug.

“You knew damn well investigating was out of bounds, and now you’ve compromised the investigation, don’t put the blame on me.”

“I”m not blaming you, I want you to stop protecting asshole cops!” Peter shot back. Cervantes shot a glance at Backstrom.

“Hey,” Backstrom protested, “he didn’t mean me, he meant rapist asshole cops.” Peter threw his hands up, and paced more. 

“They just get to keep their badges, you know we are right about them,” Peter accused.

“And you both gave them ammunition to keep their badges!” Cervantes snapped back. “I can’t use any evidence or confessions Backstrom got. You both did this, and if they get away with it, Valentine and your team can thank you, and so can any of Hunter and Bennett’s future victims,” Cervantes spat right back. “You are investigating Special Crimes, but you don’t get special rules especially when your family, friends, or lovers are involved,” she offered more softly, rubbing her forehead. “Stay out of the way and don’t get any further involved. Let internal affairs do their job before you blow this whole investigation.”

“They aren’t going to go against someone like Bennett with his impeccable record,” Peter argued.

“Especially with Valentine’s history, no one will believe him,” Backstrom observed.

“It doesn’t matter, because Valentine isn’t giving a statement,” Cervantes informed them, “but you’re right, this investigation isn’t going to turn on Gregory Valentine’s sworn anything,” Cervantes said, and she looked a little sad. 

“So that’s it, they just get away with it?” Peter asked angrily, “We can get you evidence that backs up the statement Val would make.” 

“I will suspend you both if you hinder this investigation further, and I’ll have you both arrested for obstruction or just plain pissing me off, if I even hear a hint of you involving yourselves in this investigation,” she warned, “dismissed.” Backstrom and Peter exchanged wary looks, and then headed for the door. “Or your damn team Backstrom, don’t pretend I didn’t include them in the warning,” Cervantes clarified. Backstrom’s shoulders slumped a little as if she had read his mind.


	2. Legal Ease: Must come down...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine can't catch a break, even when he follows through on keeping his mouth shut, there's just no trust. Or perhaps, when someone is that angry at you there's more than meets the eye. Valentine has a violent confrontation with a black mailer and fights for his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are good, but comments are better.

Valentine climbed out of the shower, wrapping a towel loosely around himself as his cell phone beeped new text message alerts incessantly. 

‘Locked out, open the door,’ the text message from Peter read, followed by a sexy emoticon.

Val sighed, and laughed, padding down the hallway, he dropped his phone on the dining room table, and headed for the door, cinching the towel precariously, and he hoped seductively at his hip, he checked himself in the hall mirror, and went to the door. He unlatched it and flung it wide, dropping to slouch into a sexy pose against the door jamb. “What do I get…” Val started, but cut off abruptly. He lost his balance, when he registered Bennett standing there. 

Val tried to step back and slam the door in Bennett’s face, Val got it part of the way there, and pressed himself against it, wedging his feet against the wall and his back to the door. Val was a little surprised his towel was hanging on, but Bennett was shoving hard and had his foot between the door and the wall. There was no way to close it, Val started calculating the distance between him and a door he could lock. He’d left his cell phone in the bathroom, but he would have been trying to call Peter, and Val realized Bennett must have his phone. 

“Get out!” Val snapped. 

“I just want to talk,” Bennett said, but he was pushing hard on the door, his arm reaching around to try to grab Valentine. Val shoved his hand away, and then gave the door one good shove, kicked Bennett in the leg, and took off running, he knocked over the hall table, hoping to slow Bennett down. Val heard the door hit the wall and then slam shut, but he was inside the bedroom and slamming that door. He locked it just as Bennett hit the door, and started throwing his shoulder into it if Val was guessing correctly by the thumping and rattling. 

“I’m calling the police,” Val threatened. 

“I am the police!” Bennett snapped back. Val didn’t think the door would hold long, and instead of going for his phone, he pushed the dresser in front of the door. It didn’t look like it would hold up much better, but Val made his way to the bathroom, looking for his phone, he’d tossed it down right here. The door continued to thump, Val winced as he remembered carrying his phone to the dining room table, on the other side of the door. “Fuck my life,” Val whispered to himself harshly.

Valentine quickly ducked into the closet and opened the safe containing Peter’s back-up piece, and he groaned inwardly when it was empty. “Damnnit,” Val hissed, and he grabbed the baseball bat instead. He quickly pulled on some sweatpants having no desire to fight naked or in a towel. The door rattled, and Val tried to think. He tiptoed and closed the bathroom door, if Bennett thought he was in the bathroom, Val might be able to make it to the front door and get out, if he timed it right. Val took a deep breath and angled the closet door, he’d have to run. 

Val flinched as the dresser toppled and the door opened. He watched through half lidded eyes as Bennett stormed into the room, he went right for the bathroom, and Val took off, but Bennett was fast, and Val stumbled at the dresser, Val still swung with the bat, and hit Bennett hard in the side.

“You motherfucker,” Bennett snapped, attempting to grab Val, but Val swung again, Bennett more prepared caught the bat mid blow and used his palm to hit Valentine in the chin. Val lost his grip on the bat, and it went flying, as Bennett tried to grab him. Val stood his ground, throwing a punch, kicking, and he was sliding through Bennett’s hands, still slick from his shower.

“Gonna kill you,” Bennett was muttering.

“Fuck off!” Val shouted. Bennett grabbed Val by the fist and arm, twisting, and Val felt himself sailing over Bennett’s head, ‘not good’ Val thought but he landed on the bed, Bennett on top of him, he dropped an elbow onto Val’s face, and Val felt blood, but he kicked his feet up trying to hit Bennett in the head, and managed to catch his temple. Bennett wrapped an arm around Val’s throat dragging him to the floor, but Valentine bit him hard, and Bennett punched him in the back of the head. That gave Val a few indoor stars, and he swayed a bit. Bennett used that moment to wrap his arms around Valentine, pinning him against the bed.

“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” he said, panting, and Val was glad he’d at least worn him out a bit. Val continued to struggle. “But you think because your boyfriend,” Bennett started.

“No!” Val snapped, “I think, because you’re an asshole…” but Val was cut off when Bennett punched him in the back, his arm going around Valentine’s throat, pressing hard, cutting off his air. Val continued to struggle, his arms prying at Bennett and when he couldn’t move those steel bands, he tried to elbow him, but Bennett didn’t relent, he stood, lifting Valentine off the ground, Val started to see black. ‘Not here,’ Val thought, the idea of Peter finding him in their room. Val kicked his legs, but Bennett fell forward onto the bed with him, pressing him into the mattress as he continued to choke him. 

“You fucking owe me, and you’re going to shut this investigation down,” Bennett warned. Val felt himself drifting, he had to stay awake. He used the last of his energy to kick off the mattress with his feet, causing Bennett to lose his grip slightly. Val’s arm shot up by his throat, stopping Bennett from wrapping him up again. Val tried to crawl and he kicked back with one of his feet, catching Bennett in the face. Val launched himself towards the edge of the bed, and felt Bennett grab his ankle and pull hard. Val landed on the mattress, and reached out with his hands to pull himself away, but Bennett was pulling him back, and then on top of him again, twisting him, face to face this time and pinning him. Bennett used his hips to hold Val down as he forced Val’s hands above his head. They were both breathing heavily, and Bennett leered at Val’s exposed chest. His free hand stroking flesh he found, Val tried to twist away, but he had no leverage. 

“Is this how you and Peter do it, face to face?” Bennett asked once he had Val pinned. Val clenched his teeth. “You used to like this,” Bennett reminded him.

“I never liked this,” Val returned, swallowing hard. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot, now you say you didn’t like it,” Bennett shrugged disbelievingly, letting his mouth kiss and taste Val’s flesh. Val tried to buck him off, “I hope you move like that when I’m inside you,” Bennett purred into his ear and Val made a choking sound, tears stinging his eyes. Not here, not in their bed, Val tensed, renewing his efforts. “That’s right, you remember how good it was,” Bennett continued, his fingers flicking nipples, caressing Valentine, sucking at his neck. “We had fun.” 

“Fun? I had to have sex with you or go to jail. You threatened me, it wasn’t a date or even an exchange. You blackmailed me, you,” Val said, and he swallowed a lump in his throat, “forced me,” Val said softer than he intended. 

“What does Peter do? He just pays you, maybe I should have taken you home,” Bennett muttered, his eyes still wandering over Val’s flesh. “How much does it cost him to have a live in hooker?” Bennett snapped, but then his face softened, “I was nice to you, why are you so bitchy now?” Bennett whispered.

“Nice?” Val choked, “you threatened to throw me in jail if I didn’t suck you off in dirty alleyways, you were nice?” Val hissed, “were you nice when you had me by the hair, forcing me to my knees? Were you nice when you pressed me onto the hood of your car,” Val trailed off, “or when you arrested me but drove me to your friends house so I could strip and service them? You were nice? I did what you said or I got hurt or threatened,” Val bit out, throwing his head back, closing his eyes. 

“Maybe I was rough occasionally, and I’m sorry. I admit, I was jealous sometimes, you made me so angry,” Bennett said and Valentine laughed bitterly, and he felt some moisture leak out of the corner of his eye - his fault, always his fault-. “You were so pretty, and so hot, I did like you,” Bennett whispered. 

“I’ve never liked you,” Val returned, still trying to free his hands. Bennett pinched one of his nipples angrily, and Val made a sharp, pained intake of breath. 

“You didn’t seem to mind me then,” he spat, and his free hand dove into Val’s waist band, rubbing, cupping flesh, trying to arouse him, but Val’s body wasn’t responding. “Maybe you just need a reminder, I used to make you feel good too, you came for me, you can’t rewrite history for your boyfriend.” Bennett growled, Bennett stilled, his hand stroking Val’s face, “see you’re doing it again,” Bennett chastised. 

“Why are you doing this, I didn’t do anything,” Val asked, “I didn’t give a statement, I didn’t cooperate, I did what you asked, what you threatened, you won.” Bennett’s face was thoughtful. 

“Why won’t you have sex with me?” Bennett asked.

“I don’t want to, I never wanted to,” Val said, his voice tight. 

“I helped you, what about after Piven,” he asked and Val closed his eyes, and swallowed painfully. “I comforted you.” Val laughed, but it turned to a sob. “I held you after that when everyone else walked out and left you alone. When your mother couldn’t even look at you.”

“You,” Val said after a shaky breath, “put your arm around me, and for ten seconds you were kind, and then you were putting my head in your lap and forcing me to give you a blow job.”

“I didn’t force you, you were grateful!” Bennett snapped. 

“I was seventeen, you held me there, and whispered that it would be a shame if my life was ruined because someone was convinced I killed Piven. How I’d be tried as an adult and I needed friends like you!” Val howled, angry at what had happened, angry he had to relive it, angry he had to justify it, it wasn’t okay, why did it keep happening?

“You ungrateful whore,” Bennett said, and he slapped Val, “I helped you and because your boyfriend doesn’t like your fucking past you cry rape,” Bennett snapped. “I liked you when no one else thought you mattered, but maybe they were right, you’re worthless stupid whore,” Bennett accused, his hand going back to Val’s pants, pulling. Val twisted again, but he couldn’t get anywhere. Val spit in Bennett’s face, which was stupid for so many reasons, spitting didn’t hurt and generally tended to piss people off. Val wasn’t wrong about that assessment. Bennett’s fist slammed into Val’s ribs hard, but Val pushed forward as Bennett pulled back to hit him again, causing the other man to lose his balance, Val kicked him with his feet sending Bennett backwards.

Val slid to the floor, and sprung to his feet, aiming for the door, but Bennett grabbed him around the waist, and grabbed a fistful of hair. Bennett spun hard, and launched Valentine towards the nightstand. Val crashed into it, toppling the lamp, and hitting his head hard on the corner, he felt blood, and his vision swam. Bennett grabbed him, and flung him face down on the mattress. Val’s vision blurred as he watched his blood seep into the blue sheet, turning it red. Val felt dizzy, and unsteady he tried to crawl forward and away, Bennett was back on top of him, his hand pressing against Val’s neck, pressing him into the mattress, his knee on Val’s back. 

“Leave me alone,” Val breathed out, trying to rouse himself.

“I wish you would relax, we could be so good again, I do like you,” Bennett was saying, his tone pleading, one hand exploring more gently, down Val’s back, caressing his thighs. “I’m sorry if I was rough, stop provoking me.” 

“Come on, I like you maybe I even love you, or I could,” Bennett was whispering to him.

“No,” Val breathed out, he flexed, trying to crawl forward. Val made it a small distance, but he heard Bennett unzipping his own pants, clothing shifting. Val felt Bennett’s naked skin pressed against him, Bennett’s mouth kissing Val’s shoulder and neck. Val felt tears stinging his eyes, he didn’t want to, and especially not in his and Peter’s bed. Val tried to push Bennett’s hands away. 

“I can be nice, this doesn’t feel bad does it?” Bennett was whispering to him. Val reached out with his hand, grabbing the edge of the bed, pulling himself, he had to get away. 

“Stop,” Val said, trying to find purchase so he could escape.

“You were always my favorite, I was disappointed when you weren’t working. There were others, but you were special,” Bennett promised, massaging Valentine’s back, caressing, pressing his erection against Val, “look what you do to me,” he accused softly, his hand drifting to Val’s hip, rocking against him.

Val considered it, Peter would forgive him, maybe he could save his own life if he just agreed. He’d been with Bennett before, knew what to expect, could probably get it over with quickly. Val’s ribbed ached, and every breath hurt, he could still do it. Val’s chest hurt, these were the choices he got to make, did he ‘let’ it happen or not? Val felt reality slipping, Bennett wouldn’t stop if he passed out, didn’t know if Bennett would stop if he was dead. Val’s hands dug into the mattress, it was better than a dirty alley, maybe just the scenery changed, maybe this was his life no matter how much he pretended it was otherwise, or even believed that it was otherwise. He couldn’t escape, because he was ‘so pretty’, he ‘made’ people feel this way. Val flicked his eyes open, he might have passed out, he wasn’t sure. 

“Come on, be nice to me, and I’ll be nice to you,” Bennett reasoned. 

“Okay,” Val said groggily, “okay, but not here, please, not here,” Val said swallowing, tears making their way down his face. 

“I’m not taking you to dinner,” Bennett laughed, “it has to be here.”

Val shook his head, “not in our bed, the couch, the floor,” Val panted his suggestion. He couldn’t stop Bennett, he didn’t have the energy or strength, but he just didn’t want it to happen in their bed, it felt like it would be worse, after everything Peter and he shared here, couldn’t he have something that was sacred? Obviously, not his body, but then maybe a place, something that was his? Something safe?

“I’m not good enough for the bed?” Bennett’s voice was angry sounding, and his hands were rough again. “I’m surprised Niedermayer lets you on the furniture at all,” Bennett snapped. “"Your stupid fucking boyfriend is not better than me, and you sure as hell aren't. You're fucking me in this bed, now get on your hands on knees,” Bennett spat. Something in Val broke, he wasn’t doing this in their bed, anger fueled his veins for a moment. 

“No,” Val grunted painfully.

“Fine,” Bennett snapped, he pressed a hand into Val’s back and went for Val’s waistband. Val’s hand shot out trying to grab something, anything, to help himself. He hit the nightstand causing it to fall sideways, the contents of the drawer spilling out. Valentine saw Peter’s gun. Val launched himself for it, and Bennett went after him, they both toppled to the floor, but Val had the gun, he was wedged against the nightstand, floor, and Bennett, Bennett half on top of him, Val couldn’t move. Bennett punched him in the ribs again, and a gun shot rang out. Val was so startled, he wasn’t quite sure what happened. “You, shot, me,” Bennett said, his hand loosening, and Val tried to back away, but he was still under Bennett and trapped against the floor and nightstand. 

“Just stop, leave me alone,” Val pleaded. Bennett’s eyes were round with shock, and then anger, he grabbed Val by the throat and Val didn’t even realize he had pulled the trigger again, but the second bullet went through Bennett’s throat. Bennett gargled, grabbing his own neck, and Val struggled as Bennett’s full weight pinned him, blood spurting towards him. Val felt himself breathing too fast, he had to get away, he shoved Bennett, taking the gun with him and crawled backwards until he hit the wall. Bennett wasn’t moving. 

Val blinked, everything seemed to stop, he couldn’t hear anything, he couldn’t feel anything. He didn’t know how long had passed. But, “gunshots, someone will call the cops, I can’t be here with a dead cop,” Val whispered to himself. He looked down and realized he was still holding the gun, and he tossed it away. He tried to stand but the world spun and he dropped back down closing his eyes, breathing shallow, he knew he was hyperventilating, he had to breath evenly. Slowly, he came back to himself, and he felt pain, his body ached everywhere Bennett had hit him, his ribs were particularly acute. Val wrapped his arms around himself, and tried to think through the pain, he had to do something. 

“Police!” he heard in the distance. Val swallowed hard, backing against the wall. This wasn’t good, it was really bad, he needed Peter, ‘please come home,’ Val thought. The police came in, guns out, looking around the corner, they saw Valentine, but they were on the opposite side of the bed and likely couldn’t see Bennett yet. 

“Sir, are you okay?” one of them asked, stepping around the dresser, checking the corners of the room before coming through. “Sir, can you hear me?” Val didn’t answer, he watched paralyzed, and nodded his head dumbly. The officer stepped around the bed and then took in Bennett. His head whipped back towards Valentine and then he trained his gun on Val. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice tight with anger.

“I didn’t,” Val breathed out, shaking his head, but the cop looked from the gun on the floor, to Valentine. 

“Don’t move,” he repeated, as the second cop stepped around the bed. He touched Bennett’s throat, “Hey, Bennett, are you okay?” he asked. 

“Get down on your stomach,” the other officer said, coming towards Val, his gun drawn. 

Val nodded and tried to comply, but it was hard to move fast, his ribs ached, the officer grabbed his arm and flung him towards the floor, Val hit the floor hard, “Ahh!” Val yelped loudly, the air forced out of his lungs. The officer put his knee on Val’s back, and wrenched his hands behind his back, Val cried out. Rough, angry, hands started searching Val. Where the officer thought he was hiding a gun was a mystery to Val. Val cried out when he patted his ribs roughly, everything hurt.

“Bennett?” the officer asked. 

“Dead,” the other answered tightly. Val felt his guy press down harder.

“Why’d you kill him?” the cop asked pressing hard on Val’s neck.

“I didn’t mean,” Val said, but he was cut off as the officer pressed harder. Val yelped in pain as he was lifted roughly to his knees. He felt the steel of the gun at his temple. 

“Looks like he was resisting arrest,” the guy next to him said. Val opened his eyes and involuntarily averted his gaze from the gun, and he felt tears, but he wasn’t sure if he was crying.

“Looks like he still is resisting,” the other cop retorted.

“Please don’t,” Valentine whispered, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, and honestly, it wasn’t difficult, he doubted he could do anything to them anyway, everything hurt, the room was spinning, he was shaking.

“You should be scared,” the other threatened. Val felt his vision blackening, it was too much and the world was spinning. He hoped Peter wouldn’t see, he just wanted to talk to him, just for a second. He heard more cops coming, angry sounds, Val bit his lip and as the gun moved along his skull, “why is he naked? And why did you kill him? What sick fucking stuff are you doing?” the officer asked again. Val shuddered, and tried to think quickly.

“Get off him,” came a familiar voice. Val’s head turned as he saw Hunter.

“Not you,” Val groaned miserably. 

“I mean it, leave him alone,” Hunter said, holstering his weapon, and moving towards Valentine, forcing the other cop to retreat a step.

“He killed Bennett,” the other cop snapped.

“In self-defense is my guess,” Hunter said, with a quick glance to the room.

“I wouldn’t forget who my friends are,” one of the officers warned. 

“I’m not picking him over you,” Hunter corrected, “he didn’t do anything.”

“He killed Bennett,” the one answered.

“Look at this place,” Hunter said, “Bennett is twice his size, look at him,” Hunter said jerking his thumb towards Val. Val watched them warily, he wasn’t so much afraid to move as his brain couldn’t process that it was a possibility. His heart was racing, and he didn’t think his odds were better with Hunter there, though a small measure of relief registered when the gun disappeared from his temple. “You think this kid started a fight with Bennett?”

“He was blackmailing Bennett, you were there,” one of them snapped.

“He wasn’t, we lied, we took him and we dosed him. I didn’t know Bennett was lying,” Hunter said, “but I went along with it, just like you’re doing because you’re mad. Bennett,” Hunter started.

“Was a great cop,” someone finished.

“Most of the time,” Hunter said, still shifting so he was between Valentine and the other officers.

“But I was there. Bennett had a thing for this kid, I didn’t know that when I helped him. I thought,” Hunter shook his head. “He lives here, look at the dresser in front of the door, he clearly tried to avoid a confrontation. Bennett’s naked, what do you think happened here? The kid clearly tried to get away,” Hunter said.

“You’re a forensics expert now,” one said, but there was less force in his voice now.

“Don’t punish him because Bennett was one of us. We have to look out for each other, but come on, look at him,” Hunter said, and Val helped Hunter’s argument by slumping forward, his eyes rolling back in his head. Val imagined unconsciousness would make him appear less like a threat, ‘good plan’ he thought before darkness washed over him.

“I have a pulse,” Hunter said relieved, breathing heavy, but it sounded like he was far away, Val heard static in his ears, and buzzing, a heavy cloud on his consciousness trying to push him back into oblivion, where there was no pain, no thinking, everything way easy. 

“Hey, hey,” someone was pressing on Val’s chest, oh it hurt, his ribs, it was hard to breath, he was so cold. “He’s breathing again,” someone else said. Val wondered when he had stopped, he certainly wanted to stop, each breath like sucking in broken glass.

Val’s eyes fluttered, and Hunter was leaning over him, “No,” Val said weakly and lifted a hand to push him away, “not you,” he said, and his eyes closed again. 

“Stay with me, get him a god damn ambulance,” he heard Hunter bark, “I think he’s going into shock, move your asses.” Val felt his legs lifted slightly and a pillow placed under them, but that hurt too. “You’re not dying on me, so buck up kid,” Hunter demanded. 

Val opened his eyes again, he couldn’t remember where he was, the woods? No, he recognized the ceiling, his room, why was Hunter here? Val took in the rest of the room, and his memory cleared. ‘Oh shit, Bennett,’ Val thought. “Don’t touch me,” he said, again trying to make his hands formulate a defense, but the signals from his brain didn’t seem to be reaching his limbs. 

“Look,” Hunter whispered, “this isn’t the place or the time, I know that. But I am sorry. I’m not that guy, I mean, I am that guy, I didn’t know I was that guy, but it won’t happen again. I don’t want to be that kind of person. I’m sorry, and I’m going to help you,” Hunter said, his eyes earnest, as he tucked his coat more firmly around Valentine, and his fingers felt for Valentine’s pulse. “I can’t reach your boyfriend or Backstrom,” Hunter said, “so I need you to tolerate me a little longer,” he remarked, “you’re safe, okay?” 

“Don’t touch me,” Valentine pleaded again, as Hunter reached for him. 

“I’m sorry,” Hunter whispered withdrawing his hands. “You’re bleeding, and I think we need to stop it. I don’t think anyone else is going to help you, and I know it’s not a great choice, but it’s me or possibly bleeding to death.” Val thought for a moment watching him suspiciously. “I guess that confirms what a shitty human being I am if you’d rather bleed to death,” Hunter shrugged, but Val could see the shame in his posture. 

“Stop,” Val said through short gasping breaths.

“I won’t hurt you,” Hunter promised, “but I have to touch you, just to stop the bleeding,” he said and without waiting for confirmation, he pressed a cloth to Val’s head, it hurt so bad. Valentine tried to watch him, but realized that his left eye was shut, he couldn’t open it, it felt swollen. He glanced down, there was a lot of blood, and Val’s head felt like it was crushing in on itself. 

“Hurts,’ Val slurred, he could taste copper in his mouth.

“Where is that ambulance!?” Hunter shouted. 

“Coroner’s here,” someone said in the background. 

“I hope it’s a table for two,” someone said nastily, and Val didn’t have to look to know they were referring to him. Was he dead, was the coroner for him? Pain ripped through his body, no, he was definitely still alive. 

“Just try to breath, I’ll get you some help, okay?” Hunter promised, “I know it’s hard, just keep breathing.” 

Val didn’t know if he nodded or not, time was passing funny, and he wasn’t sure if Hunter was even talking to him. Val felt moisture on his face, but wasn’t sure if it was tears or blood or both. “Hey, you’re going to be okay,” Hunter said, but he sounded more scared than sure. Hunter’s hand was on Valentine’s shoulder, rubbing gently.

“I’m in shock, I’m not a wimp,” Val whispered, pressing his lips together, his breathing shallow and pained, he felt himself shaking and he couldn’t stop. More hands came for him, someone was prying his eye open and flashing a light in his eyes.

“He’s pupils are enlarged,” someone said, “his skin is cool and clammy to the touch, heartbeat is rapid, blood pressure low, let’s get him some fluids.” Val thought that was a great idea, he was thirsty. 

“Can you tell me your name?” someone was asking, Val’s head rolled to the side, he thought he answered.

“Gregory Valentine,” he heard Hunter say. 

“Mr. Valentine, can you hear me, any allergies?” the EMT asked, and Val felt a prick on his arm, and he flinched, someone was pressing a needle into his arm, it hurt. 

“No!” Val said, and tried to recoil.

“It’s just for an IV,” Hunter said.

“Hold him,” the EMT directed, and Val felt hands pressing on him.

“Sorry Kid,” Hunter whispered, his face too close, pressing into Valentine, arms forcing him down.

“NO!” Val said more forcefully, but he couldn’t move. Val felt himself pushed onto his side, and then rolled back onto something hard, he heard strap sounds like velcro and felt pressure. “Stop,” Val was struggling, he didn’t want to be tied down. 

“Valentine, Valentine, shhh, listen to me” Hunter was trying to soothe him, “it’s okay, we’re taking you to the hospital okay, stop struggling, please,” he asked, and Val felt them lift him and place him on something, and then the scenery changed, he was rolling down the hallways, it was so bright, but blurry, and he was shaking so hard, it made his ribs ache.

“Peter,’ Val whispered as he felt the world moving by, he saw brief flashes of the apartment, and they were pressing blankets against him, Hunter was there, and he saw a sea of other cops, he tried to find Peter in the crowd. 

“I’ll get him,” Hunter promised.

“Call Moto,” Val mumbled.

“Got it,” Hunter said, and he had one hand on Val’s chest, “you’re going to be okay,” and Val imagined for a moment that if Hunter had not kidnapped him and force fed him drugs recently that might have been a comforting comment.

“I hope he dies,” Val heard someone mutter. Blackness washed over Valentine again.

***

Peter felt like he couldn’t breath. Moto had told them to get to the apartment because Bennett was there and had gone after Valentine, but he didn’t have any other details. The elevator was taking a painfully long time, Backstrom smashed the buttons again, as if it would speed the elevator up, and continued pacing in the small space. Moto stood by the door watching them both nervously. Moto was on guard to keep them calm, or at least keep the hysteria and violence to a minimum. The elevator doors slid open and a coroner was there, with a body bag, on a gurney. The world tilted, and Peter went down on one knee, one hand on the wall to brace himself. “Who, what, who, is that?” Peter tried to wrap his mouth around a question, while simultaneously rejecting what he saw. Peter felt completely numb and his eyes zoned to a pinprick, all he could see was the bag, and he felt disconnected from his body, he couldn’t, if Val, not Val, can’t be, don’t, his mind formed half protests.

“It’s an officer,” Moto whispered. Peter felt such relief, but his body still didn’t pick itself up right away. Moto helped him back to his feet.

“Where’s Valentine?” he asked no one in particular as he started down the hall towards their apartment. His hand lingered over the splintered front door, someone had forced their way in. Peter made his way down the hallway towards the bedroom, and saw the hallways table knocked over, Peter had pressed Valentine onto that table many nights after work, too eager to wait for the bedroom. He smiled at the memory and then shook his head, his brain was having trouble staying present. Peter saw the bedroom door, it had been forced open, he noted the dresser, but he still didn’t see Valentine. His heart was beating loudly, in a strange pattern, he could feel his blood moving sluggishly through his veins. Peter met the angry looks of fellow officers, who seemed to soften at his approach. Peter felt like his legs wouldn’t quite move fast enough. 

“Val!” he called out, but there was no response. He stepped over the dresser and his hand went to his mouth, it was hard to breath. There was blood, the bed was torn apart, and sagging where one of the legs had broken. Peter turned, seeing the bedroom door, angry jagged wood splinted, the contents of the dresser spilled, the nightstand by the bed upended, blood. “Where’s Valentine?” Peter demanded of one of the officers. 

“Hospital,” someone snapped. 

“Was he okay?” Peter asked knowing the question was dumb before he finished.

“I hope not,” one of the cops said. Peter felt cold inside.

“What?” 

“He killed Bennett,” the cop answered. Peter didn’t realize he had started towards the cop intending to inflict violence on him, until Moto’s hand was on him, restraining him.

“Come on Niedermayer,” Moto was saying, “I’ll take you, let’s see if we can get an update,” Moto was placating, as he directed Niedermayer to the door. Backstrom was close behind them, silent. 

***  
“No, no one is going in there until Backstrom or Niedermayer get here,” Peter heard someone arguing in the distance.

“He’s a fucking cop killer and I just want to ask him a few questions,” came a nasty reply. 

“No one is going to touch him, or interrogate him, or even look at him,” came a more firm reply.

“Why the fuck are you defending him?” the same nasty voice demanded. 

“No one is hurting him, Bennett attacked him and he defended himself, he’s innocent.”

“No one has ever used ‘innocent’ and ‘Gregory Valentine’ in the same damn sentence. Get the hell out of my way someone has to stick up for cops, Traitor.”

As they rounded the corner, Peter immediately recognized Hunter, who was blocking another officer from the room assigned to Valentine. Moto quickly interceded, moving the other officer off.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Peter snapped.

“I’m just trying to help,” Hunter said, he averted his eyes and looked sheepish.

“Val have another overdose? He fall down some non-existent stairs?” Peter accused, and he elbowed Hunter out of the way as he entered the room. Val was laying in bed, his eyes closed, wires attached to machines that reported his vital signs.

“Valentine,” Peter called softly, moving to the bed, his hand going to Val’s, his other stroking Val’s temple. “Hey,” Peter called, but there was no response. Backstrom and Moto came in, and Peter saw Hunter hoovering at the door.

“I can tell you what I know, until the doctor gets here,” Hunter offered.

“Why would I believe anything you said?” Peter snapped. 

“I screwed up, and I’m sorry. I’m not asking you to forgive me, I’m just trying to make things right,” Hunter said.

“This is making things right, you and your buddy,” Peter spat, and he felt the anger ripping through his chest.

“I didn’t do this, I wasn’t there, and I didn’t know,” Hunter said. “Last time I was, and I gave my amended statement to my lawyer to give to the chief.” 

“Amended,” Peter bit out, “you mean the truth?”

“Yes, all of it,” Hunter said stoically, “I messed up.” Peter felt tremors through his body. He was mad and scared, and numb, he closed his eyes. 

“What happened?” Peter asked through gritted teeth, resentful of having to ask Hunter for anything. 

“Bennett went after him, did you see your place?” Hunter asked.

“Yes, I fucking saw what you guys did,” Peter retorted.

“I wasn’t there until after, I heard the call come in and I recognized the address so I went,” Hunter corrected. 

“Why?” Peter asked, “finish the job?” Hunter looked away painfully, swallowed and then met Peter’s gaze.

“I knew it was your address, and I was worried Bennett might have gone after him. I just,” Hunter looked away, “I owed it to him,” Hunter said nodding at Valentine, “to try and fix things, or intervene.” 

“You owe him a lot more than that,” Peter said. 

“You’re right,” Hunter nodded. “The doctors say he’s stable now.”

“Now?” Backstorm asked. 

“His ribs are broken, you can see Bennett really got a piece of him. He,” Hunter trialed off.

“What?” Backstrom asked moving closer.

“He went into shock, stopped breathing, no pulse,” Hunter said, and he shook his head as if remembering. “The doctor’s got the bleeding under control, gave him fluids, and he’s been resting ever since.” 

“And the fan club?” Backstrom asked.

“A cop is dead,” Hunter shrugged, “people are mad.”

“How did you get assigned his protective detail?” this time it was Moto who asked.

“I’m not assigned, but I didn’t think he would be safe here, alone,” Hunter said. 

“So you just stayed?” Backstrom asked, “to be nice?” 

“No, I owe him, as has been pointed out.”

“Consider your services no longer necessary,” Peter informed him coldly. 

“Of course,” Hunter nodded, and backed out of the room. 

“Val, can you hear me?” Peter asked, whispering close to his ear. Peter watched the machines, beeping and lighting up with information. 

“He’s been given a sedative, so he won’t be up for a while,” a doctor said, coming forward, extending his hand. “Dr. Phillips, you are?”

“Peter Niedermayer,” Peter said, “I’m his,” and Peter faltered, he was worried boyfriend wasn’t enough of a title to get information. “Where’s Dr. Livingston?”

“Not working tonight, you are?” the doctor asked again.

“They’re doing it, but I’m his brother,” Backstrom said, “is Valentine okay?” 

“He sustained significant injuries, and experienced hypovolemic shock from blood loss, and his middle left rib is cracked,” the doctor started to explain.

“No, no, I don’t want forensic or medical crap save it for the jury, is he going to be okay?” Backstrom spat, rubbing his head and shooting a dirty look at Peter as if he’d orchestrated a professional explanation.

“Yes,” the doctor nodded. “The rib should heal in a few months and there are no other life threatening injuries now that we have stopped the bleeding, given him a transfusion, and provided IV fluids. He’s going to hurt for a while, but with proper care and pain medication he should be fine.” 

“Those are all of the injuries?” Peter asked.

“All of the physical ones,” the doctor offered. “The assault appears to have been brutal, and I understand he killed his assailant. I can send the psychiatrist by for a mental health evalu,” Dr. Phillips started to offer.

“No,” Backstrom said. 

Peter turned back to Valentine, leaning in close, “you’re safe now, I’m here, everything is going to be okay.”

***

Peter heard a noise behind him, but Backstrom has a pretty distinctive gait. Peter stood over the spot where Valentine had been just 24 hours ago after Bennett had attacked him. 

“What happened?” Backstrom asked, “and you can tell me the boring forensics stuff,” he offered, and Peter felt like Backstrom was rolling his eyes. Peter sighed rubbing his head. 

“Obviously, Bennett stole my phone and texted Valentine,” Peter said, walking towards the bathroom. Val must have been finishing a shower, and he answered the door. He saw Bennett and tried to close the door, but Bennett must have wedged his foot in, see the scuff mark towards the bottom of the door? Valentine ran, knocking over the table as an obstacle, he’s very smart,” Peter added with a pained smile, “Val barred himself in the bedroom until Bennett broke down the door,” Peter explained retracing the steps, walking through the events as he described them. “I think, Val hid in the closet, he opened the safe, but my gun wasn’t in there,” Peter shook his head, “it should have been, I put it by the bed because of the stuff with Bennett and Hunter. Stupid,” Peter said, but he shook his head slipping back into forensics mode, “Val grabbed the baseball bat he keeps in here, and tried to make a run for it,” Peter said, again tracing the steps, “but Bennett caught him here, I think,” Peter said just in front of the dresser, where some of the contents were thrust in the wrong direction, “and disarmed him,” Peter said pointing to the bat in the corner. 

“Then,” Peter said and he trailed off, “then he got a hold of Valentine, who fought back, you can see blood splatters here,” Peter said, pointing to the edge of the bedspread and the floor. “They struggled on the bed,” Peter’s voice became tearful, but he held back the stinging in his eyes, his fist clutching the blanket for just a moment. “Val tried to crawl away, you can see the trail of blood splatters, and bunching of the sheets,” Peter swallowed, pointing out the trail to Backstrom. “Val was pulled back, you can see the unbroken streak of blood here,” Peter said, “but he got away, to here,” Peter said standing at the corner of the bed, “but Bennett caught him again, and threw him into the nightstand,” Peter said, pointing and then walking to that location, side stepping the broken glass. “Val hit his head here,” Peter pressed his lips together, and closed his eyes. “You can see the blood from impact, and the drips to the nightstand and carpet, until Bennett threw him back onto the bed, Val landed here, facedown, note the pool of blood,” Peter said, and he felt tears, unsure of when he started crying. Peter walked along the end of the bed, “you can see Val tried to crawl away again, note the thicker trail of blood, he was stopped here,” Peter said, pointing to another saturated blood spot. “Bennett must have been pressing him down, you can see the amount of blood absorbed which could only have happened with contact,” Peter closed his eyes. “Val must have broken free again, he made it to the nightstand, knocked it over, and went for my gun. They were both on the floor, Bennett struck him at some point, you can see the blood splatters, flecked on the wall, nightstand, and floor,” Peter shuttered, swallowing hard, “Val’s hand must have been pinned between them, he shot once-very close range, and you can see Val tried to back up again, but then he shot again, here. He crawled away, to there,” Peter said, kneeling at the spot Val had rested, and he pressed his hand to the wall as if it would reveal secrets. 

“The officers must have entered the room, Val was forced to lay down here, I think pushed, see the bouncing pattern of blood? If he had laid down it would be a steady consistent line, but there’s a small absorbed pool here and he was pulled up at some point, you can see the indents where he kneeled, and the blood that must have dripped down, here,” Peter pointed, kneeling. “Then he fell or fainted, you can see a new spot of blood here.” 

“Someone rolled him over, the amount of blood makes it very easy to trace his steps,” Peter commented, but his voice vacillated between pained and clinical, “they performed CPR, note the flecks of blood that occured when they did compressions,” Peter was bent over, his head in his hands. He stopped talking and wrapped his arms around his stomach, he felt sick, violated, angry, and helpless. Tears splashed down mingling with Valentine’s blood. Backstrom’s hand was on his shoulder.

“He’s okay, he got away,” Backstrom said. “He was fast and lucky, he’s always been,” Backstrom said proudly. 

“You call this lucky?” Peter asked softly, sniffing, small sobs making him shake. ‘Lucky?’

“He’s not dead,” Backstrom returned. 

“Cracked rib, almost raped, violated and molested, threatened, countless bruises and cuts from being punched, slapped, and kicked. Lucky?” Peter said, turning his face to Backstrom.

Backstrom dropped his hand. “I’m just glad he’s alive.” Peter fell back against the wall, his hand over his mouth, his eyes drifting closed. “This is our bedroom,” Peter said.

“And the gayest thing I want to know that you do in here, is read poetry to each other,” Backstrom warned. 

“It’s our home, he should be safe here. He opened the door because I lost track of my phone,” Peter said, shaking his head. “That body bag,” Peter said and he took a deep breath. 

“Valentine is going to be okay, he’s always okay,” Backstrom said more firmly, but Peter got the sense he was comforting himself and not talking to Peter.

“I need to clean this place up before he comes home,” Peter said looking at the disheveled bedding. 

“That’s why we’re here,” Backstrom said, “So put them to work, and you can go grab a book of poetry and sit with Valentine, gaying it up.” Backstrom said jerking his thumb at Gravely, Moto, Almond, and Paquet, conveniently not including himself in the work party. 

“I’ll fix the door, and I brought extra locks,” Moto offered, Peter nodded his appreciation. 

“We’ll get everything organized,” Paquet offered, “go get our twinky,” she encouraged.

“It’s Twink,” Peter corrected, smiling slightly, remembering the dance at Donald Samson’s house when Paquet had rescued him from Valentine. Peter’s heart hurt, he wished he had that moment back. Peter stood, his hand trailing the bedspread, he tried not to think about Valentine and Bennett. He wanted to take Valentine to a party and dance the night away with him, hold him in his arms, sip expensive champagne.

***

Peter entered the hospital room, Val was sitting up smiling like nothing had happened Valentine always bounced back, shoved away the pain and performed. Lou was with him, sitting in a chair, looking a little frustrated. 

“I like Peter, and I’m glad you’ve stopped stealing,” Lou was saying. “I just wonder if, ever since you’ve been with him,” she didn’t finish the sentence, but Peter could have. Ever since Valentine had been with him, he’d been hurt. 

“Hey,” Valentine called, seeing him in the doorway, his face did light up then. Peter went to him, drawn irrevocably towards him, ever since that night. Peter remembered drinking and Chinese food. Val’s first kiss and how intoxicating it had been. Peter smiled at the memory, so much had happened but Val didn’t look different, his spirit wasn’t dampened by all that had transpired in the last eighteen months. 

Peter meant to give him a chaste kiss for Lou’s benefit, but Valentine, as usual, attempted to antagonize her with lots of tongue, and groping, Peter would have toned it down, but it felt so good to have Valentine in his arms, Peter didn’t want to let go, and he pulled Val in close, his hands going to his face, brushing stubble, his other hand drifting down to his back, drinking him in, so close to losing him, again. Val shuddered, and winced. Peter pulled back then, remembering Val’s cracked rib. Val looked sheepish, and whispered against his mouth, “that was nice,” seeming to forget Lou.

“Well,” Lou said tightly and Val turned to face her then. “I think it’s time for me to go.” She walked to Val’s bedside. She kissed his cheek and she met his eyes. “I just don’t understand why this keeps happening,” and Peter watched Val shrink then, it was almost imperceptible, but Peter had the distinct feel of withdrawal and pain. Val recovered quickly, and leaned in as Lou kissed his cheek. Lou shot Peter a look, not unkind, but wary, and laced with blame. 

“What was that?” Peter asked, when she left, Val shrugged. 

“I’m cold keep me warm,” Val invited instead, sliding to make space for Peter on his right side. Peter moved in, his hands feeling Valentine, Peter had mapped every bruise and cut and let his hands exist in spaces where it wouldn’t cause pain. “I missed you,” Val whispered against his lips, and Peter tasted him then, letting his tongue explore slowly, he’d kissed Valentine countless times, but it felt new, he savored the feel of his mouth, his tongue. “Mmm,” Val murmured, “you know what a believer I am in sexual healing, let’s do this,” he offered seductively.

Peter laughed, holding Val’s hands. “I just,” Peter said, and there was pain in his voice. 

“What’s wrong?” Val asked, his hand holding Peter’s a look of concern. 

Peter laughed painfully, “Look at you,” he said, shaking his head, “and you’re asking me what’s wrong, like I’m the injured person. Look at your face,``Peter said, his hand stroking, “you’re so worried about me, what about you?” Peter asked, 

“I’m resilient,” Val said ducking his head. 

“I want to ask you what happened,” Peter confessed, his hand going to the cut above Val’s eye. “But I think I know most of it. I just wish I knew why.”

“Because Bennett is an asshole,” Val whispered.

“Because Backstorm and I arrested him and went after him, after you asked us not to. You warned us. I didn’t,” Peter said, shaking his head, “I didn’t think he’d go after you, if I had thought you were in danger,” Peter promised, drawing in a long breath, hugging Valentine. 

“It’s okay,” Val said, and that hurt Peter’s heart. 

“I’m sorry about my phone,” Peter said, and he felt tears then, kissing the top of Valentine’s head, holding and rubbing the back of his neck. “I love you, I’m sorry.” 

“Stop,” Val whispered, “Bennett is responsible.” Peter nodded. “He,” Val said breathing deeply and flinching. “He thinks he liked me, he was going to come after me no matter what.”

“What?” Peter asked. 

“He thinks,” Val shook his head, “he thought he loved me.” Peter rubbed Val’s back, more twisted love, more violence and anger. “He said I was special,” Val laughed without humor. “Everytime someone says I’m special I get hurt, I’d like to be ordinary,” Val observed. Peter flinched. He wanted to assure Valentine that ordinary wasn’t in the cards, but special didn’t have to mean pain.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said again, “he had no right.” Valentine nodded. “He wanted to kill you?” Peter half asked, half stated.

“There was an option B,” Val muttered, “I considered it,” Val confessed his eyes flicking to meet Peter’s gaze. “I even agreed if,” Val said, watching Peter out of the corner of his eye. 

“Any choice you feel you had, you made the right ones. I don’t want you dead or raped, I don’t like that those were the options,” Peter said, his hand holding Val’s cheek, his forehead pressed against Val. “I love you.”

“I just didn’t want to let it happen, especially not in our bed,” Val said, closing his eyes. Peter’s hand tightened for a moment.

“None of that was about letting Valentine, you didn’t have choices, perhaps the illusion of choice, but this, this is too high of a cost to say no to someone. He was a monster, you didn’t do anything,” Peter could picture the scene playing out in his mind, in their room, “I want to find somewhere else to live,” Peter blurted out impulsively. Val tensed, and stiffened.

“You don’t have to leave, I can go back to the barge,” Valentine offered.

“No! I mean, no,” Peter said, shaking his head, “I want to find somewhere else for ‘us’ to live. I don’t want to leave you or for you to leave.” Val smiled and nodded, the insecurity dwindling from his posture, “I love you,” Peter finished.

“I love you too,” Valentine whispered. Peter kissed him, gently letting his tongue tease Val’s lip, waiting for them to part, and then Peter let his tongue dance past, massaging Val’s tongue, his hand instinctively going to Val’s chin, cupping his face, pulling him close. Peter felt such an overwhelming feeling of love for Valentine, it made him feel warm all over, and too full, the joy of it exhilarating, but almost painful.

“Marry me?” Peter asked softly, and he was stunned by his own question. Val stilled, drawing back to look at him. Val blinked several times. 

“I,” Val said and he stopped like he couldn’t believe what he had heard. 

“I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Peter said, his voice the tone of a confession. 

“I love you too,” Val said, his voice nervous.

“I didn’t mean to ask that, here, now,” Peter sighed, “don’t answer.”

“I didn’t think you were serious,” Val said smiling and dropping his head back to Peter’s chest.

“I’m very serious, I just, I want a do over, this is not the story I want you to tell about a proposal,” Peter said, his arms around Valentine, as Val stiffened, his fingers tightening in Peter’s shirt.

“Peter,” Valentine said cautiously, almost a warning, and Peter could feel him swallowing nervously.

“You’re on morphine and you’ve had a rough day, don’t answer, I just, I know how scared you are about commitment and intimacy, and relationships. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and I have a different plan for how to do this, I got lost for a moment,” Peter explained, relaxing, pulling Valentine closer, hoping he hadn’t triggered a flight response when Val likely needed comfort. Val relaxed a little, but the question hung in the air between them, Peter was a little frustrated he’d blurted it out, he did have a much better plan, and that included waiting until Valentine seemed more comfortable with the boyfriend label.

“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” Val started to say.

“You can’t disappoint me,” Peter cut him off. “Forget I said it, when I do ask, you’re going to find it impossible to resist me,” Peter teased, and Valentine did laugh against him then, more of the tension abating.

“You know I am on morphine, maybe we should take advantage of that until they take me off,” Valentine offered, his hand making a trail down Peter’s chest to his stomach. Peter snatched up his hand.

“Morphine isn’t that effective, your rib is cracked,” Peter reminded him, kissing his jawline, and neck. Peter’s eyes drifted to a big purple hickey that he hadn’t put there, but he didn’t react, he breathed deeply, wrapping his arms around Valentine. He hoped there weren’t other visible or invisible marks on Valentine evidencing Bennett’s obsession. Val moaned into his touch and after a few more half-hearted attempts to get Peter into an amorous mood, the medication took hold and Valentine drifted. Peter revelled in the soft snoring sounds as Val’s head was pressed into the crook of his neck, the weight of him felt good, real, it felt like Valentine was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are good, but comments are better.


	3. Legal Ease: Closing Arguments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine has always been resilient, careful to bury the pain deep within his soul where he thinks he never has to deal with it again. Realizing that you are loved, and worthy of love can be crippling. Sometimes it gives you the space you need to process pain, and allows healing that would otherwise be impossible. It's never easy to deal with scars, but it can be helpful in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos are good, but comments are better.

Peter brought Valentine home the next evening. Peter hadn’t been back to the apartment, but Backstrom had assured him that everything was taken care of, after confirming that information with Gravely, Peter relaxed. Peter and Val hadn’t spoken about coming home, Peter wondered if Valentine even wanted to come back, but he didn’t push the issue. They had spent some time in the hospital looking at different housing options. Some dispute had arisen about splitting rent since Valentine had a steady job, but Peter didn’t particularly care for any of the places they could afford together, he wanted something with a security gate. Peter shifted his focus to closet space, and that started to win Valentine over to some of the places Peter liked better.

Peter opened the apartment door, Val had one arm around his waist, and limped slightly. His rib still ached, and his ankle was twisted, but Val hated the crutches. Peter wasn’t sure if he really did or just wanted an excuse to have his hands on Peter. Val seemed to delight in accidentally groping him on a regular basis. 

The front door was fixed, solid, and Peter noted the additional security features, and a wider pass through to see who might be knocking. The hallway was spotless, the table restored, the bedroom door looked new, and unblemished in the distance. Val tensed beside him, and Peter rubbed his back. “We can get a hotel,” Peter offered.

“I have more good memories with you than bad memories with him in there,” Val said, and it sounded like he was trying to convince both of them. “Besides, I’m tired, I want to lay down,” Val said. Peter noted he was pale, little beads of sweat forming on his brow. Peter nodded and they moved forward. Val opened the door before Peter, and they stepped in. 

“Oh,” Val whispered, there was new furniture, dressers, nightstands and a bed were all new, the linens were fall colors, browns, and greens, the curtains crimson and more in line with what Valentine had back at the barge. The carpet had been replaced, and the walls had been painted. Peter felt so grateful to the team, he hadn’t considered going this far to wash away what had happened, and certainly hadn’t anticipated they would make these changes.

“Red is your color, you think Paquet or Backstrom?” Peter murmured, taking Val the rest of the way to the bed. Val dropped on the mattress. 

“I think those catty bitches fought over color scheme,” Val teased, as Peter grabbed a pillow to help him prop his foot up. “Check my closet make sure Paquet didn’t take anything,” Val suggested. Peter shook his head.

“I’m here to wait on you hand and foot, what do you need?” Peter asked, and Val’s eyebrows shot up suggestively, “food, drink?” Peter amended.

“I could eat,” Val said, leaning against the pillows. Peter gave Val his medication with a glass of water before disappearing into the kitchen, and when he came back Valentine was fast asleep. He set the sandwich by the bed, and crawled in next to him, neither of them slept particularly well at the hospital, and exhaustion won out. 

****

Val woke in the darkness, he moved a little to ease the ache in his side. 

‘I hope you move like that when I’m inside you,’ Bennett’s voice drifted through his consciousness. 

Val’s eyes flew open, not quite sure if he was dreaming or awake. He saw Peter next to him, and started to reach out his hand, but pulled it back. Val took a deep breath, biting his lip. He hadn’t had a proper shower at the hospital and he felt like a layer of dirt was covering him. He eased out of the bed, wanting Peter to catch up on his sleep, but also needing a few moments to himself. He limped to the main bathroom so his shower wouldn’t wake Peter. 

Val shut the door softly, and caught sight of himself in the mirror. He limped forward, he felt disconnected from the appearance, it felt like him, but not him. His finger went towards the mark on his neck, he thought it was a bruise at first, and there were several of those, but that mark was a hickey, he remembered Bennett biting and sucking at his neck ‘you like that don’t you?’ Val closed his eyes trying to push the memory away. Val ran his fingers through his hair, and memories of Bennett grabbing him, pulling him by the hair, Val shuddered. Images of Trippi, countless faceless others pulling, using his hair to hold him down. Val’s own hand clutched his hair tightly, pulling. He opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror, he opened the drawer and grabbed the scissors. Val started cutting at his hair. He was breathing fast, and his vision was blurry as he grabbed pieces and cut haphazardly. It didn’t look great, maybe he wasn’t as pretty as he was before, Val’s chest ached. It was shorter, not grabbable, but he looked less like himself, he had liked his longer hair. So did everyone else though. 

Val left the mess and made his way to the shower, stripping off his clothing, having a difficult time getting his sore muscles to cooperate. He noted more bruises, more hickeys, and he shut his eyes. His skin crawled, he didn’t feel at home in his own flesh. He turned on the shower, stepping in and washing away the stray hairs, rubbing shampoo and soap, washing away real and imaginary grime. He pressed his back against the wall for support, letting the water rinse the soap off, he still didn’t feel clean, his skin felt foreign, he scrubbed harder, and he pretended all the moisture on his face was from the shower water. He turned the water up to the hottest setting and for a moment he registered it was too hot, but his body felt numb, he scrubbed at his neck where the hickey was, he wanted to remove it and all the marks.

Val looked down at his chest, the tattoos, he could still see the cigarette burns, and he scrubbed at those too, he eventually ran out of soap and dropped the bottle, rubbing the last of it into his skin, willing the invisible sheen of filth from his body. He scrubbed at the newer cigarette burns the ones on his arm, the ones Trippi had done, the ones he had done himself, he scrubbed until the soap was gone, and the skin was raw, then he used his nails to scrape at them, the water tinged pink with blood from his efforts. He wanted the marks off his body, it was useless, he was branded. Val covered his mouth as a sob escaped. He dropped to his knees, folding his hands over his ribs, it hurt, everything hurt, and nothing helped, he didn’t feel cleaner, or better, whatever it was that was wrong with him, he wasn’t capable of removing. It was embedded in his skin. "Stupid, worthless, whore," Val whispered. He pressed his hands and forehead to the floor, and let the water wash over him.

***

Peter woke his hand instinctively reaching for Valentine. He was met with empty pillows and he forced his eyes open. He checked his watch and it was midnight. He looked but didn’t see or hear anything, so he checked their adjoining bathroom. Then he started down the hall, and heard the shower. He hesitated, Valentine hadn’t woken him up and had used this bathroom, maybe to be alone. Peter vacillated between being supportive and intruding. Peter knocked softly, not sure Val would even hear him over the water. He would just check on him, make sure he had towels, and then he would go, unless Valentine wanted him to stay, he told himself. He hesitated, and tried the door, it was unlocked, he considered that a good sign. 

Peter opened the door, and noticed right away the hair all over the sink, and floor. His heart sank, it was unlikely Valentine had decided for any good reason to groom himself at midnight. Peter approached the shower and he could see Val’s outline on the floor of the shower. “Val!” he called sharply, hoping he hadn’t fallen. When he opened the door, it was clear he hadn’t, he was huddled, shivering. Peter felt the water and it was ice cold. “What the hell?” he asked, turning off the water which had been on the hottest setting. Peter grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around Valentine, noticing the red angry marks where the water had been too hot before, the scratches, the blood at Val’s neck. Val kept his eyes closed, but didn’t resist. 

Peter bit his lip and focused on drying Valentine off. “Val,” he tried softly. Val tucked his head into Peter’s neck, his hands clutching Peter’s shirt, but he didn’t respond. “Okay,” Peter said, patting him dry. “I don’t know what happened, but I’m here, if you can tell me what to do, I’ll do it,” Peter offered. Val didn’t respond. “Is it okay if I get you dry and warm?” Peter asked, and he intended to do it anyway. Val shrugged. Okay, that was a somewhat promising response. Peter started to stand, pulling Val with him, careful of his ribs. Val stood beside him, and limped, leaning against Peter, but didn’t put his arms around him for support. Val was shivering, and Peter guessed it was the too long, and too cold shower, Val’s skin was icy to the touch. 

Peter got Val back into bed, and Peter stripped off his own clothes, pressing against Valentine, trying to warm him back up again, as he pulled the comforter tightly around them. Peter kissed the back of his neck, the back of his head, noticing the much shorter hair. Peter tried to soothe with his hands, and words, and Valentine laid limply beside him, Val’s own arms crossed over his midsection. Peter tried to discreetly check Val’s pulse, and was pretty sure Valentine was experiencing mental trauma and not a medical emergency that would require them to go back to the hospital. 

Val’s skin was warming up, and Peter felt a little relieved. He was careful with his hands as he noticed the scratch marks on Val’s body, marks that hadn’t been there before the shower. Peter kissed his shoulder, “I love you,” he whispered. Val flinched at that. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I want to help,” Peter offered. “Is this okay?” he asked, his arms around Valentine. Val nodded almost imperceptibly. “Can you tell me if you’re hurting anywhere, anything I should look at?” Peter asked, his hand gently touching the marks on Val’s arms. Val shook his head.

“Okay,” Peter said. “I’m a little scared, I don’t know what happened, and I want to make it better,” Peter confessed. 

Val’s hand drifted to his own short hair. “I,” Val whispered, “I just wanted a shower, it got out of hand,” he explained shrugging. 

“Your hair still looks nice,” Peter tried to comfort knowing that Val’s appearance was important to him. 

“Does it?” Val asked sharply, “am I still fucking pretty?” he asked bitterly, his hands going through his own hair, flinching, tears escaping from the corner of his eyes as small sobs tore through his chest. 

“Val,” Peter said, his own hands going to Val’s hair, “it’s not your fault,” Peter said. 

“Everyone says it, I’m so pretty, I tease them,” Val repeated in the accusatory tone Bennett and others had used, “I make them,” Val finished softly, pressing his hands to his forehead, covering his eyes. Peter’s chest hurt, and he felt lost for what to say. 

“I’m so sorry,” Peter said, his hands gentle. “You’re beautiful, that’s not a crime, reason, or invitation. Being attractive is not an excuse for someone to hurt you.” Peter knew Valentine knew all of this, but maybe it did need to be said out loud.

“I turn them on, even when I don’t try,” Val accused himself, “I can’t stop it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Peter repeated. Val was pressed against him tightly.

“I just feel like,” Val said through tears, shaking his head, “I don’t feel like myself. I don’t feel like I’m connected to my skin, it feels different, I can’t wash away,” Val trailed off, choking on his statement “I don’t see it, I don’t understand what it is about me that others see that I can’t - it’s okay to touch me, to use me, and other people know it.” 

“You’ve met a lot of bad people Valentine, but it’s not you, it’s them,” Peter defended. 

“It doesn’t happen to you, or Backstrom, or Moto, I don’t feel like a person,” Val confessed, his hands were pressed into his own skin, digging into his neck. Peter tried to gently coax his hands away, hoping to prevent any additional self-inflicted injuries. “I’m property, marked up as belonging to others and to everyone and anyone,” Val said, curling \ into a ball, his hands drifting to the cigarette burns. 

“I sold my body and I never get to have it back,” Val observed, “it doesn’t belong to me anymore.” Peter pressed his cheek to Val’s back. 

“I don’t know what to say, except that’s not true. This isn’t your fault. You’re an amazing person, people who don’t respect that are assholes, you don’t deserve this,” Peter soothed. 

“What’s different about what I did then, and what I do now?” Val asked painfully. 

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“What’s the difference between being a whore and being your boyfriend?” Val asked more firmly, it didn’t feel mean the way he said it, he sounded lost, like he was genuinely confused by the distinction. 

Peter blinked several times, and sat up on his elbow so he could see Valentine more clearly. “A lot.”

“Name something,” Val pleaded. “My body belongs to you, and you pay all the bills. You cut out the middle man by not handing me cash directly, not really though because you gave me money too,” Val explained.

“Your body doesn’t belong to me,” Peter said firmly.

“But I’m not allowed to have sex with other people, you have exclusive use of,” Val observed, gesturing to his body.

“Val, please,” Peter said, his hand going to Val’s jaw, his thumb gently stroking away moisture. “I love you.”

“Others have said that,” and Peter flinched involuntarily.

“Val, other people may have said it, but people who love each other don’t hurt, confine, or force each other to do anything. I’m not paying you for sex. I had this place before you moved in, and you weren’t working, it didn’t feel fair to demand rent from you. Your being here didn’t change anything about my finances, and you contribute to food, housework, this is our place. You can come and go as you please, and I asked for monogamy - you still get to choose,” Peter explained. “I don’t have own you, you don’t have to have sex with me unless you want to, and you can want to sometimes, and not other times. We decide.” Val closed his eyes, nodding, thoughtful about what Peter had said. Peter felt cold inside, Val really was having trouble seeing the difference, and that stung. 

“And if I stop having sex with you?” Val asked.

“Then you do, I’d miss it, but I’d rather have you here with me,” Peter said.

“It might be easier to say that while I look like this,” Val said gesturing to his head. 

“You’re still very attractive,” Peter said softly.

“Maybe I’m not as pretty, you don’t seem turned on,” Val noted harshly. Peter sighed.

“I’m still attracted to you Valentine, I’m not aroused by your suffering,” Peter explained patiently. Valentine was clearly upset and itching for a fight. 

“I’m sorry,” Val whispered, and he pressed himself against Peter, his hand going to Peter’s hip on a clear path for sex, but Peter grabbed his wrist, putting his arms back around Valentine, gently holding Val’s hand. “You don’t want to?” Val asked enticingly, seductively, but it wasn’t his usual voice, this one held a hint of self-loathing and sexual service.

“I don’t want to while it feels like you’re using me to punish yourself,” Peter said softly. 

“Are you sure, you won’t be able to tell the difference,” Val offered, pressing his backside against Peter, “I’ll make you feel so good,” Val promised in his working voice.

“I will be able to tell, and no thank you,” Peter said softly, not wanting to trigger a response by rejecting Valentine, but not at all willing to have sex with him.

“You’ve made a large investment, you should get what you paid for,” Val noted, his voice dripping with false sexual interest.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but you’re not rewriting our relationship into a business deal,” Peter cautioned him sternly, and lovingly. “I love you,” he whispered closer to Val’s ear. Val’s hands drifted back to his head, rubbing, like he had a headache.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I hate,” Val said, pausing, his hands drifting down his neck and shoulders, “I don’t want to,” Val said his breath catching, “I’m not going to hurt myself, or anything, but it hurts to be alive,” Val said, and tucked his head down, crying. Peter moved closer then, his arms wrapping around Valentine.

“I know,” Peter said, “I wish I could say I understood completely, but how you feel is normal, it’s okay,” Peter offered, stroking gently. 

“I don’t know why I attract people who enjoy,” Val shook his head, “He kept saying, they all say, if I wasn’t pretty,” Val cried, holding tightly to Peter, “if I didn’t make them feel,” Val confessed, “I make you aroused too, maybe I am doing it,” Valentine whispered, “I don’t know how not to, but people notice. They slow down in cars to talk to me, to invite me, even now, something about me makes it okay,” Val confessed, “something my body just,” and he flinched, tensing.

“No, no, no,” Peter assured him, “it’s not you it’s them. You’ve just encountered a lot of broken awful people, it’s not your fault.” Val nodded, but perfunctory, because he was supposed to, because the mantra was ‘not your fault’. 

“I hate my skin,” Val said, and his nails dug into his own arms, and Peter gently redirected his hands, trying to spare the injured flesh. Val turned into him, then, kissing Peter’s neck, his hands trying to entice him.

“Please stop,” Peter said, trying to catch his hands, “don’t do this.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Val murmured, “you can do whatever you want to my body, I don’t even feel it,” Val invited, pressing against Peter. “You’re so tense and upset, I can distract you, and it doesn’t matter,” Valentine promised.

“It matters to me,” Peter said, catching Valentine’s hands and holding them in his own, pressing Val back against the bed. Val looked up at him, but the eyes were not quite his there was an anger and hardness to them. 

“You deserve it, don’t you want your mark on me, you can, burn it, cut it,” Val was struggling against him, trying to reach for Peter. “It’s fine, everybody does it,” Val invited.

“I don’t know how to help you,” Peter said, as Val continued to try and press his hips towards Peter.

“You can’t, you don’t have to. You’ve earned, take whatever you want,” Val offered, “you’re the highest bidder, what have you always wanted to do?” Val asked, and when he couldn’t free his hands, he leaned in instead, kissing Peter. “I can do anything,” Val promised. 

“I’m very happy with our sex life and there’s nothing I want to experiment with while you’re feeling this way,” Peter said forcing Valentine back, and averting his mouth. Val dropped to the pillows breathing hard, frustrated. 

“You can restrain me if you want,” Val invited, no longer trying to free his hands, “I’m yours what will you do to me?” Peter released his hands at once, shaking his head.

“I don’t want to do anything to you,” Peter responded, but with his hands free Val came back towards him, his hands resuming their seductive pursuit.

“I like it,” Val promised in a tone that made Peter feel sick. 

“The hell you do,” Peter denied.

“Everyone says it, Bennett, Trippi, Piven, they all hit me, they all said I liked it, there must be something to that. They can’t all be wrong. Maybe I don’t know what I like, or maybe I’m just ashamed of what I like,” Val offered, his mouth trying to find Peter’s, as Peter evaded him. “Try it, let’s see what happens, hit me,” Val encouraged.

“I’m not hitting you, you don’t like it,” Peter said, his hands deflecting Valentine’s efforts, trying to not to restrain or hurt him.

“How do you know, I can hear you’re getting frustrated, I’m pissing you off, make me stop, maybe we’ll both feel better, help me understand,” Val said, but there was a plea in the request, like he really was trying to understand himself.

“I know you don’t like it because I have hit you,” Peter said softly, a brief image of the whip in his hand, the feel of it hitting Valentine’s back. “You didn’t look like you enjoyed it, and I sure as hell didn’t,” Peter said firmly.

“But you did enjoy forcing me,” Val whispered, and that hurt, Peter took a deep breath and tried to let the comment sail by, Val was clearly distraught, and confused, they’d talked about what happened at length, and Val didn’t or hadn't had any ill will towards him after Natasha had taken them. Val was spiralling. Peter licked his lips, and focused, Valentine was in pain, that was the focus and if that is the worst comment that Peter had to endure about that incident he was still getting off easier than Val had. 

“I didn’t,” Peter said simply.

“It’s okay, I came too when people hurt me, so some part of me likes it,” Val said bitterly, his hands shaking, but he reached for Peter again.

“I’m asking you to stop,” Peter said, keeping his own hands back, his body rigid. Val stilled looking at him.

“Why?” Val shrugged, “we have sex all the time.”

“It doesn’t feel like you’re with me Valentine, you’re hurting and I want to comfort you. I don’t think this will help you, and it doesn’t do anything for me.” Peter explained, and Val withdrew his hands, moving away. Val sat up his back to Peter, his hands on his knees, his head buried in his own arms. Peter could see in the moonlight the fading lines of the whip marks in Val’s flesh. Val really was marked all over. Peter couldn’t imagine. Val had arrived at his analysis honestly, of course he believed those things.

Peter kneeled, putting his hand on Val’s back and rubbing gently. He didn’t know what to say, Valentine wasn’t in a good place and seemed to want to twist what Peter said. Peter also didn’t want to invite any more twisted sexual advances that either would hurt Valentine if he gave in, or hurt Valentine if he rejected him. Val’s breathing was hard, like he was in pain, though whether it was all physical or mental Peter couldn’t tell. 

“Do you need pain medication, how are your ribs?” Peter asked, his hands gently touching Val’s side.

“If you drug me it won’t hurt, if I pass out you can do whatever you want, I won’t remember,” Val offered flatly.

“I am not trying to drug you,” Peter sighed, closing his eyes in frustration. Val continued rocking.

Peter retrieved Val’s medication, a glass of water, and he slid on boxers. “Here,” he said handing over the pills. 

Val glanced at him, “the boxers won’t protect you, I’m a prostitute, I can make you come fully clothed,” Val observed, swallowing the pills and downing the water before handing the glass back to Peter. 

“I’m not trying to protect myself from you Valentine, and I know how talented you are,” Peter acknowledged. Peter put the glass in the bathroom, and returned, standing by the bed, unsure of how to proceed.

“I’m sorry,” Val said painfully, burying his head. “I don’t know what I’m saying, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Val was whispering. Peter did move next to him then, putting his arms all the way around Valentine, pulling Valentine to his chest, kissing him, whispering words of assurance and affection.

“I love you, I forgive you, nothing to forgive, it’s okay,” Peter murmured. 

“I fought back,” Val said, “I looked in his eyes, he believed it when he said I liked it, why?” Val asked, “I don’t understand. They all believe it.”

“He’s sick Val, there’s something wrong with him, and them.”

“My hair,” Val said through tears, as if just realizing it was cut. His hand feeling his shorter locks. Peter kissed his back, and neck.

“We’ll fix it, you’re beautiful, it doesn’t matter,” Peter assured him. Whatever had wound Val up left him abruptly, he sunk backwards into Peter and covered his face, turning into Peter for comfort, instead of more sexual advances. Peter held him, stroking his back and arms, offering more assurances. Val eventually found his way onto his back, his hands on his chest, staring at the ceiling. 

“I don’t know what, I don’t know why I did that, or said those things, I’m sorry,” Val whispered, not looking at Peter.

“It’s been a harrowing couple of days,” Peter said still sitting beside him, “it’s easy to get mixed up.”

“I can stay at the barge,” Val said softly.

“Why would you?” Peter asked quietly.

“Because I’m fucking fucked up, and you shouldn’t have to put up with it?” Val said, his voice filled with self-loathing as his eyes reddened, tears still slowly forming and winding their way out the sides of his eyes. 

“Backstrom should?” 

“He’s used to it,” Val answered. Peter stilled at that comment. If something like this had happened before and Backstorm knew about it, Peter certainly didn’t. He let the comment slide by, and made a note to bring it up. Not that Backstrom would tell him anything anyway. “You can come closer, I won’t touch you,” Val promised, a hint of fear in his voice, his hands going to the sides of his face, wiping away the moisture there.

“I don’t mind if you touch me,” Peter said softly, moving beside him. Val watched Peter out of the corner of his eye, and he seemed tense apprehensive. Peter moved his hand to Val’s stomach, pressing closer, maintaining eye contact. Val turned onto his uninjured side, and his hand tentatively went to Peter’s face, brushing a stray hair out of Peter’s eye.

“Do you feel like,” Val asked, but shook his head, biting down on the words. 

“You can ask me,” Peter encouraged, now that Val had settled back down, Peter was less concerned about inviting dialogue or touching. Val was himself again, still distraught, still wounded, but not spiraling out of control. 

“Do you feel cheated, is there more you want to do,” Val asked, his hand gesturing between them, “sexually?”

Peter smiled, “I have no complaints about our sex life.” Val nodded.

“But that doesn’t mean that it’s everything you want,” Val said, his eyes flicked to Peter’s chest. 

“I’m not sure why you think I’m missing out,” Peter said, squinting his eyes, desperately wanting to know how this was coming up now, “what makes you think I’m not satisfied?” Valentine shrugged. 

“Do you like our sex life?” Peter asked suddenly in return. Val nodded. 

“What do you think when you look at me?” Val asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion, he watched Peter, and Peter did not like the sensation of a vague question feeling so important.

“Can you provide more context, I think lots of things.”

“What did you think when you first saw me?” Val asked, crossing his arms over his own chest.

“Can I clean those?” Peter asked, gesturing towards Val’s wounds. Val looked down, seeming surprised by the marks. He nodded slightly and shrugged. Peter retrieved the first aid kit, as Val rolled onto his back. Peter sat with Val’s head in his lap and worked on the injuries. 

“I don’t think I noticed you very well,” Peter said. “I noticed you and Backstrom had the same noses, lots of similarities, I thought you were his son. I thought it was odd that no one talked about it.” 

“Were you attracted to me?” Val asked, as Peter used a sterile wet cloth to clean off dried blood from Val’s neck. 

Peter sighed, “No, I didn’t think of you that way.” Valentine nodded. 

“When were you? You said once that if you were going to be with a man it wouldn't be me,” Val reminded him. 

“That comment was, rather poorly constructed,” Peter explained. “I have relationships, I know you don’t. I wasn’t thinking of you that way, so when I said it, I meant that, not that you weren’t attractive.”

“When did you find me attractive,” Val asked, tilting his head, as Peter applied antibiotic cream to the injury, watching Peter’s face. Peter smiled at him, as he put on a bandage.

“When you kissed me,” Peter said, moving to the deeper scratches on Val’s arm. 

Val laughed at the memory, “that’s all it took? And you kissed me,” Val reminded him. Peter nodded. 

“I knew I hurt your feelings, and I just wanted to show you I wasn’t scared, I just didn’t think I liked men. I thought it would fix things I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, and my comment was careless, ill crafted and ill explained,” Peter noted, bandaging another wound.

Val laughed, “what changed your mind?”

“That kiss,” Peter said softly, the memory softening all of his features. “I remember feeling so intrigued after that, the way you kissed me.”

“You kissed me,” Val reminded him playfully.

“The way you kissed me back,” Peter said with fake exasperation, “it excited me, I was turned on and that’s normally a slow build for me. I don’t have one night stands,” Peter explained. 

“Was I a one night stand?” Val asked, and winced as Peter put antiseptic on another wound.

“Sorry,” Peter said, “are you feeling itchy? Is that why the,” Peter asked gesturing to the scratch marks, “it could be the medication, we can adjust it if it’s bothering you this much.” Val shook his head.

“It’s stupid,” Val said, and he let his eyes flutter closed. “I was trying to remove the marks, I know,” Val said, letting out a breath. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.” Peter licked his lips, tried not to flinch as he imagined Valentine scrubbing at his old injuries. “Was I?” Val asked going back to his one night stand question.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t really thinking about what would happen next, I was intrigued. Obviously, I wanted more,” Peter said, checking the other wounds, a half dozen required a bandage, but most were superficial. He rubbed arnica oil into the rest to ease the raw nature of it and to reduce scarring. 

“If you knew then what you knew now,” Val started.

“Yes,” Peter said without hesitation, dropping his mouth to meet Val’s lips, his hand caressing Val’s face. “Yes, I would choose you over and over again, always,” Peter said confidently, leaving no room for doubt. Val smiled. 

“Why?” Valentine asked, letting his eyes drift back to Peter.

“The heart wants what it wants,” Peter hedged, he didn’t want to start listing the things he liked, a small fear that Val would start assigning a price tag to all the things Peter liked about him.

“What do you think when you look at me right now?” Val asked, “what do you see?”

“I just see you,” Peter answered, he grabbed Val’s hand and placed it over his heart, “I just feel intense love and affection for you,” Peter’s other hand went to Val’s head, his thumb brushing Val’s forehead. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Peter said, his lips finding Valentine’s again. 

“That scares me,” Valentine confessed.

“Can you tell me why?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know if I can,” Val started. “I didn’t think this was something that was possible, or that I even believed things like this existed,” Val flinched. “When they didn’t exist, I didn’t care. Now that I know what’s possible, I don’t, the thought of not having it, if I let it become real,” Val struggled to put words to his emotions. “I don’t know if I could manage it going away,” Val swallowed hard. Peter nodded.

“That makes a lot of sense,” Peter said, “I’m not in a rush. I figure I have forever to convince you, so either way,” Peter smiled, kissing Val, letting his tongue drift along his lips, until Val opened his mouth, and Val went on the offensive then, his tongue tasting the corners of Peter’s mouth, sucking lightly on Peter’s tongue. 

“It,” Val said, pulling Peter closer, “it feels good when you say those things, I wish I was more like that,” Val started to apologize, but Peter cut him off.

“You’re perfect just the way you are,” Peter moaned against his mouth.

“Do I make you feel good? loved?” Val winced, a shiver running through his body.

“Yes,” Peter said, pressing his forehead to Valentine’s, “so loved, so cared for, so good.” Val kissed him again, his hands moving to Peter, gentler, but still urgent for connection, Val turned towards him, and winced, grabbing his side. “Slow down,” Peter said, helping Val stabilize and roll onto his back. Val let out several long slow breaths. 

“That went differently in my mind,” Val said, his head rolling to the side to watch Peter, a seductive smile on his lips.

“If you need,” Peter said, and his hand drifted to Val’s stomach, “I can always,” Peter said, his mouth going around Val’s index finger, sucking, licking.

“That would be nice,” Val said.

“My concern is that while I can confine my attention there, I don’t think the orgasm will be so purposefully located,” Peter explained. 

“I know,” Val said sadly, his lip turning down. “But we should ask about better pain medication tomorrow,” he suggested sticking out his tongue playfully. 

“I’m in no rush, can I just hold you?” Peter asked. Val nodded, and he pressed himself against Val’s back, careful of his injured side, letting his hands convey love through gentle stroking and touching, careful to avoid arousing Valentine as the mind may be willing but the body had made a decision about any potential sexual outcomes tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos are good, but comments are better.


End file.
